The Guardian
by Funkadelict
Summary: This story takes place 200 years before the events of the game, about a girl from Luca, her best friend, and her journey as a Guardian. ((Now with Interludes and up to Chapter 9! Please read and review!))
1. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Prologue

The Guardian 

**Prologue**

When you are a child, the world is full of wonder. Every day brings a new place to uncover, someone new to meet, a new type of bug to find, a new shiny object to play with. Yet there are some times when the world of an adult can be wonderful as well…

The little girl stirred in her bed restlessly, trying to find rest, after a long and exhausting day of playing with her friends. However, an incessant noise, a murmuring, chatter, from outside her open window refused to let her rest. After several minutes of battling with the mumbling from outside, the girl gave up and sat up in bed, peering out the window.

She blinked. It was night, and night meant it would be dark outside. Yet she was definitely aware of a light source, brighter than any lamp that she knew… however, try as she might, the little girl could not see where this light was coming from. 

From below her window, the girl could hear snippets from a heated conversation. One of the voices she recognized as her father's. Even though she could hear their voices, they were talking in hushed whispers, and she was unable to make out what they were saying. Suddenly, she heard one of the other men talking with her father say "Sin." 

Once more, the little girl blinked. Sin? She had heard of Sin… but what was it? Sin was only a story, wasn't it? A story about a great sea monster that attacked the helpless people of Spira… but Sin had never come to Luca. Sin had never attacked her hometown. The girl had always assumed that Sin, therefore, was not real. Yet these men with her father were obviously very excited about whatever had happen with this "Sin"… so that must mean it was real.

By now, more people had poured into the streets, and they were all looking towards the light, pointing at it… the younger ones were jumping up and down excitedly, the elder citizens were merely talking amongst themselves. However, the little girl could sense their excitement, contained though it was. One of the people the girl saw she recognized. Her best friend Kecci was sitting on his father's shoulders, entranced by the mysterious light in the sky.

Without warning, the light flared up, becoming a nova that illuminated the whole sky. As the nova expanded, the girl could see the faint traces of what looked like a gigantic fire from over the city's skyline. And the ever-growing crowd below her began to cheer, a roar that went up, spreading, growing louder, not slowing; such was the elation of these people. And the little girl caught more mentions of "Sin" and something called a "Calm", and once in a while she would hear the name "Summoner Taradine." 

The men talking with her father had not joined in the cheer, however. As she watched from out the window, they said a curt goodbye and went their separate ways. 

One of the men—one she had never seen before—edged through the crowd, deftly weaving around the jubilant people. He was dressed in an outfit remarkably similar in style to the uniforms the girl had seen on some of the people throughout the city of Luca… were they the Crusaders? However, while the style was similar, the standard blues and reds were blacks and whites on his outfit. His hair was jet-black, shoulder length, and slicked back in a tight tail. On his back was strapped a curved scabbard, and she could see the handle of a sword at the end. The girl was not the only one looking at him, she realized. Kecci had stopped staring at the light, and was looking intently at the stranger. 

As if he could feel the stare of the two youths, the stranger paused, then turned and looked directly up at the window the little girl was at, fixing her with the most intense silver stare she had ever known. 

Suddenly, she was stricken by an inexplicable urge to hide, and that was exactly what she did. The little girl dove down onto the bed and threw the covers over her head, and fell into a fitful sleep, through which the man in black chased her towards a growing light, yelling at her, "The Calm! Sin! The Calm! You must! Sin!" over and over again.

In the morning, all the events of the previous night seemed a dream. Yet the seed had been planted in young Neirana… she woke up, and looked over the city skyline to the north, where she had seen the light the night before. "Sin…" she whispered to herself. 

The mind of a child is filled with wonder. And ever so often, that wonder takes hold and will never let go. And then, even an adult can experience it.


	2. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter One

**Chapter One**

Five Years Later 

"Ieyui… nobomeno… renmiri… yojuyogo…"

The Hymn of the Fayth echoed through the halls of the Temple of Luca. A bass hum, it resonated through the stone floors of the temple. The Hymn merged with all the other noises in the shrine, forming a low cacophony that set a backdrop for all the other activities that were going on. People were praying to the statues of the High Summoners for deliverance from Sin, praying to Yevon for whatever they felt they needed. 

Curiously absent from the temple were any summoners, however there was a reason for that. Several decades before, the Fayth of the Luca Temple had been stolen, and not recovered. As a result, no summoners came there anymore, and it was purely a shrine for prayer now, as well as education of the city's youth.

"This is a statue of High Summoner Taradine, who brought about the Calm five years ago." Explained a priestess, leading a group of children to what looked to be the newest sculpture in the shrine. A man in a black Crusader's uniform was knelt in front of the statue, hands in the prayer gesture. "She, with her guardians, obtained the Final Aeon and rid the people of Spira of Sin, if only for a while. Now, can anyone tell me where battles with Sin are traditionally fought?"

Hiite, a young boy with bleach-blonde hair, raised his hand and answered. "The Calm Lands!" 

The priestess, who was leading the children through their weekly classes about Yevon, nodded and smiled. "That is correct, Hiite. Very good!" She looked at the class, and asked. "And does anyone know where a summoner obtains the Final Aeon?"

Hiite's hand shot up.

The priestess laughed good-naturedly, her brown eyes twinkling. "Now, now, Hiite, you've answered almost every question today. Why don't we see if someone else can answer this one? Kecci, do you know where a summoner obtains the Final Aeon?"

Kecci nodded and spoke in his quiet voice. "They get it in the ruins of Zanarkand." Kecci Hayado was a ten-year old boy who was small for his age. He was dark-skinned, and had close-cut black hair to match. His eyes were dark brown, so dark that they almost seemed to have no pupils. If one stared at Kecci's eyes for too long, they would find themselves inevitably drawn into the infinite depth of the blackness.

"Right! The Zanarkand ruins! Very good, Kecci!" 

However, Kecci wasn't listening to her. He was looking at the statue of High Summoner Taradine. She was a very pretty woman, he thought. Taradine had long, flowing hair that reached down to below her waist, and was in three intertwining strands… She stood tall, straight-backed, a look of pride on her face. Even in the stone carving, Kecci could see the intensity, the fire, in her gaze. Kecci felt himself being drawn to her eyes, the passion within them. She reminded him of someone else he knew.

A quick beat of footsteps on the stone floor of the Temple of Luca disrupted Kecci's reverie, as well as the class. The priestess looked up from explaining about the Calm Lands to see Neirana Sutir sprint into the temple, disheveled and out of breath. Neirana skidded to a stop in front of the group, narrowly missing knocking the man in the black Crusader's uniform over, and panted out an apology. "Sorry… I'm… late… had to… run… from the… blitzball… stadium."

The warm tone of the priestess shifted to a cold, admonishing one. "Miss Sutir! This is a TEMPLE, not a racing track! And you should know better than to go watch a blitzball match on a day when you have classes! Shame on you!" As Neirana tried to work up a feeble reply, the priestess cut her off. "I don't care IF the Beasts were playing the Goers, and if they ARE your favorite team! You have a responsibility to be here on time!"

Neirana looked down at the floor and toed the ground, speaking in a humbled tone. "I'm sorry, ma'am. It won't happen again."

"Good! See that it doesn't!" That said, the priestess returned to her teaching.

Kecci fought back a snicker and moved to his best friend. "Still rooting for a losing team, huh?"

Shooting a glare at him, Neirana retorted. "Hey, the Beasts are winning the league this year! You just watch! Their new goalie is awesome!" Neirana's tan skin was covered in a sheen of sweat from running all the way from the blitzball stadium, and her sun-bleached hair was disheveled, strewn all over her face. She was ten years old, like her best friend Kecci, and was very pretty for her age. She had green eyes that changed color to a more yellowish tone in the middle, yet when she was mad or filled with emotion, they would become a brilliant emerald. Her hair, although normally a light brown, was blonde from all the time she spent in the sun, watching blitzball, her favorite sport. Unlike Kecci, who found the lore of the summoners and Sin absolutely fascinating, Neirana preferred the fast pace and action of blitzball. 

Kecci laughed. "Yeah, right." His laughter caused the priestess to give him an angry look, and he shut up, as the class moved on in the temple, leaving the man in black praying at the statue of High Summoner Taradine.

* * *

"Man, why do we have to go to that stupid class?" Complained Neirana, her pant legs rolled up and her feet dangling in the ocean. "I mean, being a summoner is cool and everything, but why do we have to learn about where the battle with Sin is fought, or who the first High Summoner was?" 

Kecci was lying on his back beside her, also dangling his tips of his toes in the crystal sea. "I think that being a summoner is more than just 'cool', 'Rana… it's a very big responsibility! By defeating Sin, you make the entire land of Spira happy! And we have to learn about it because the more we understand our culture, the more we want to protect it, I think."

Closing her eyes, Neirana lay back down beside her best friend. "But it's still so boring…"

The two friends stayed like that, completely relaxed, for several minutes, neither saying a word, just basking in the sunlight, absorbing its warmth, until Neirana spoke up. "Hey, Kecci?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to become a summoner?"

"Of course I do! I think that bringing peace to Spira would be great! What about you?"

"Well, what I really want to do is play blitzball for the Beasts… but I guess being a summoner would be okay."

Laughing, Kecci sat up. "You and the Beasts… why don't you try rooting for a REAL team, like the Fangs? They've taken the cup for three years straight, and they're gonna do it again this year!"

Neirana sat up beside him, glaring with emerald eyes. "You take that back! Just because you like those big freakish Ronso, and because you're jealous that I'm a better blitzer than you, doesn't mean that you have to go insulting my team!" 

"Well, the Beasts are bad, you can't deny it!" Kecci stuck his tongue out at her, and then when she jumped at him, took off running, laughing all the way.

Neirana was close on his heels. "Why, you…" Although she was by far the better athlete, and could almost always outrun him, she was tired from her sprint to the temple earlier in the day, and Kecci kept his lead on her. The two ran all the way up to the Highroad before Neirana's greater endurance finally got the better of the smaller boy, and she tackled him. The two friends wrestled on the ground before the blonde girl came out on top, straddling Kecci and pinning him. "Gotcha! Now take it back!"

Kecci grinned up at her. "Nope! Not taking it back!" He kicked up, loosening her hold on him, and the two rolled towards the edge of an embankment, and down it, until they landed at the bottom, right next to a river. Once more, Neirana was on top.

"Last chance, Kecci!" Neirana laughed. "Take it back, or else—hey, look! Pyreflies!" she immediately got off the boy, and ran over to the river, over which were floating a group of the little glowing balls known only as pyreflies. "You almost NEVER see them around here!"

Within seconds, her best friend was at her side, kneeling over the river and watching the intricate trails that the pyreflies left as they floated through the air. "They're so pretty!" Kecci breathed. Without thinking, he held out a hand to them.

"Kecci, what are you doing?" Asked Neirana, puzzled. "Why are you holding out your… huh?" She trailed off, stunned. The pyreflies were hovering over Kecci's hand, dancing, moving in a circular pattern. Their glow could be seen reflected in the boy's infinitely dark eyes, as they danced, sparkling. "How are you doing that?" Neirana finally asked, amazed.

Kecci's face was filled with wonder as he witnessed the pyreflies dancing for him, moving at his command. "I… I don't know! You try it, 'Rana!" 

Neirana extended a hand to the pyreflies, yet try as she might, she couldn't make them dance as Kecci was doing. She concentrated; sweat pouring down her face, as she tried to get the little globes of light to move at her command… yet she could not. "I… I can't do it." She said at last, dejected. "I can't…"

"It's easy, 'Rana!" Kecci looked almost astonished. "You kinda just tell them what to do… and they do it! Why can't you do it?" 

Neirana felt her cheeks growing red, and she became very self-conscious. "I just… can't, okay? I guess I don't have the skills to do it…" She stood up and began to walk away from the river and the pyreflies, feeling very embarrassed. _'Why can't I do it?'_ Neirana thought to herself, ashamed. _'What's wrong with me?'_

So lost was she in her thoughts that she didn't hear the growl from beside her. Neirana's only warning was the flash of brown fur before the Mi'ihen Fang slammed into her from her left, knocking her to the ground. At first, she was confused, unsure what was happening. But then the pain kicked in, as the wolf's claws dug into her skin. The Fang was standing on top of her, licking its lips, looking at its prey. Neirana screamed out, trying to throw it off, to escape its horrible breath, its hungry gaze, but to no avail. And then the wolf leaned down and bit her on her shoulder, sending silver agonies through her body.

" 'Rana!" Shouted Kecci. The moment he had heard her scream, he had rushed away from the river, several pyreflies trailing behind him. He climbed up the embankment they had fallen down and then yelled at the wolf. "Get off of her, right now!"

Hungrily, the Mi'ihen Fang looked up, and saw more potential prey. It licked its lips, certain it would feast well tonight. Yet that distraction was all Neirana needed. She kicked up into the wolf's stomach, sending it sprawling with a yelp. She stood up, bleeding from several cuts and bites, and staggered over to Kecci, hoping the two of them would be more intimidating to the wolf than either of them alone. 

Not to be denied its meal, the wolf climbed to its feet, looking angry. It rushed towards the two children, mouth opened in a vicious snarl—and was stopped as if by an invisible wall.

The pyreflies behind Kecci, which now numbered several dozen, were dancing in front of the two best friends, forming a barrier that the wolf was unable to cross. Kecci's eyes were closed and his hands were extended, as the pyreflies moved at his will.

Stunned by this, the wolf nevertheless tried to push through the wall, and despite Kecci's best efforts, was slowly succeeding. 

Neirana knew that Kecci couldn't hold out long, and ignoring the pain in her shoulder and on her body, snatched up a large stick from the ground and brandished it like a sword as the Mi'ihen Fang broke through the barrier of pyreflies. "Stay away, you stupid fiend!" Neirana shouted as she swung the stick like a weapon, poking the wolf as it got close, keeping it at a distance.

The wolf snarled angrily, and as Neirana swung at it again and again, hitting it more often than not, the fiend became infuriated. Finally, as Neirana swung once more, the wolf seized the stick in its jaws and yanked it from the girl's hands, leaving them defenseless. The two children shrunk back from the angry fiend, all their defenses gone, when a quiet voice came from behind them.

"I'll take care of this…" A tall man in a black Crusader's uniform, with black hair pulled back in a long ponytail, and wielding a large sword, stepped between the children and the Mi'ihen Fang. Angry about this new development, the wolf leapt at the interloper, only to be sliced in half with one blow. The two halves of the fiend vanished in a spray of pyreflies. 

Neirana and Kecci were clinging to each other, trembling, unsure of what had just happened. The man in black turned to them, strapping his sword to his back. He had piercing silver eyes, and his boyish face was made more serious by an 'X'-shaped scar on his forehead, over his right eye. "Well, well… looks like you two had a close call." He said in a quiet, throaty, tenor. "You shouldn't be wandering out on the Highroad by yourselves, fiends are everywhere." The two children were still too stunned to answer, they merely nodded. "Well, I guess I'd better get you two home… you might want to see a doctor about those cuts, Miss Sutir."

As he led them back down into the city and to her father's smithery, it never occurred to Neirana to ask the man in black how he knew her name…   

* * *

"Neirana Sutir, how could you DO such a foolish thing?" shouted Masa Sutir, Neirana's father. "Don't you know how unbelievably foolhardy it is to wander around on the Highroad without an adult? You could have been killed!"

The two of them were in the family's dining room. Neirana was sitting at the large oak table, while her father was standing up at her side, hands planted on the table firmly, berating her. The young girl found herself looking behind her father at the staircase that led up to her bedroom, wishing that she could just go up there and fall asleep. "I'm sorry, Daddy… I guess that Kecci and I just weren't thinking."

Her father's face softened, and he sat down beside her. "It's all right, honey. I guess it's just that… your mother and I are so worried about you getting hurt. We wouldn't want anything to ever happen to you. And so, when we found out that you had been attacked by a fiend on the Highroad, it made us very worried."

As he said this, Neirana's mother came from the door to the kitchen to the left of the table, carrying a damp rag and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Neirana winced in pain as her mother poured some of the alcohol on the rag, and pressed it to the bite on her shoulder. "Ow! That stings, Mom!"

"I'm sorry, 'Rana, but you know, it could be infected. We need to clean it thoroughly, and you know that alcohol is the best way to do that." Her mother, Mune Sutir said in her soft, kindly voice, as she lifted up the young girl's shirt and pressed the rag against the claw slashes, sending sharp stinging sensations throughout Neirana's body. She bit her lip and tried to ignore the pain.

Masa stood up and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. The two of them couldn't be more different. Masa Sutir was a tall man, lanky, with neatly trimmed blonde hair. He had soft dark brown eyes that were nothing special to look at, but that radiated warmth and kindness. Also, he was widely renowned as being one of Spira's greatest swordsmiths. He ran his one-man smithery from out of their house's basement. 

In contrast, Mune Sutir was short, and plump, with a kind, jovial air about her. Her long red hair was done in a braid that fell over her left shoulder, and she had striking green eyes. She kept on applying the alcohol-dampened rag to the various cuts on Neirana's face and body. "Promise us you'll never go on the Highroad again without an adult, 'Rana, please?" 

Neirana bit her lip, trying to ignore the sting of the alcohol. "I… ow! I promise." Said the girl, once more wishing she was up in her bedroom, asleep.

"It's a good thing that Tyron showed up when he did." Said her father, standing up. "Otherwise you and poor Kecci would have been done for."

The girl looked at her father, as she remembered the man in the black uniform. "Tyron? Who's he?" A vague memory stirred within her, of a piercing silver stare… yet try as she might, Neirana was unable to place it.

Mune laughed softly. "Always inquisitive, aren't you, 'Rana?" She shook her head and put the rag down on the table, standing up with her husband. "Tyron Sul is an old friend of your father and I… he's a wandering adventurer, never stays in the same place for more than a week. He's been all over Spira, and he certainly knows more about lore and legends than anyone we've ever known."

"About fifteen years ago," continued her father. "Tyron came to me and asked me to forge a special blade for him. I owed him a great deal, so I accepted. I've been working on that sword ever since. It's not easy being a famous swordsmith, you know." Masa chuckled. "But I think you've had enough excitement for one day… it's time for you to go to bed."

He picked Neirana up and carried her up the stairs, into the familiarity of her bedroom. Posters of the Kilika Beasts adorned the sky-blue walls, and one had even been autographed by the entire team at the tournament the previous year. Neirana treasured that poster more than any of the others, and it had a special place right above the head of her bed. 

Her father put her down, and she went to her dresser and changed into her pajamas, still feeling the sting from the alcohol on the cuts, although it had lessened by now. Neirana climbed into her bed—with Kilika Beasts bedsheets, naturally—and her father tucked her in, and kissed her forehead. "Good night, dear." He said, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Neirana closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep, but thoughts kept running through her mind. "Why could Kecci make those pyreflies dance…?" she asked herself, whispering softly. "What skills does he have that I don't?" Neirana felt her face grow red as the memory of her embarrassment came back to her. "And who is that Tyron guy… and why do I remember him?" It was a long while before sleep claimed her.      


	3. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

**Six Years Later**

"Ready… BEGIN!" As the instructor's voice rang out, the gate in front of the sixteen-year-old girl swung open, and she dashed out from the dark preparation tunnel into a sunlit open field, populated by wildflowers, random insects and birds, and a single fiend—a Bomb. The creature bobbled up and down, making incomprehensible crackling sounds to itself… then again, the crackling could have just been the fact that the Bomb was on fire.

Neirana swore to herself, fingering the handle of her blade subconsciously. A Bomb… why did it have to be a Bomb? Bombs were some of the most deadly fiends to attack travelers, to have a student face one in a training session would be just like murder, wouldn't it? 

Trying to fight off the panic that threatened to well up inside her, Neirana took several deep, calming breaths and tried to analyze the situation in her mind. She wasn't going to die… if it came to the worst, the instructors would come in and save her, and there were plenty of certified Healers and Healers-In-Training around to fix her up should she be injured. As she realized this, Neirana felt her breathing begin to slow, become more regular, and she felt ready and confident for this battle.

Focusing her emerald gaze on the Bomb, Neirana shifted her grip on her sword to a one-handed one, holding it in her right hand. She brought the hilt up to waist height, and held it in a defensive stance, covering all her vitals from her stomach up. Crouching down low to present a smaller target, Neirana sidestepped towards the Bomb, waiting for it to make the first move. As she approached it, she ran over what she knew about Bombs to be safe.

Bombs, and their brethren throughout Spira, were unique in the fact that they did not carry nutrients through liquid-based means, i.e. blood. Instead, nutrients and other necessary items for life were transported through pathways filled with highly flammable and explosive gases. Why evolution had seen fit to put this in fiends that were ON FIRE, well, Neirana had no idea. It was an oddity, but nevertheless, it was true.

This made it hard for adventurers to fight Bombs, because if they opened a cut in the Bomb's body that was too big… there would be a very large explosion. And while the explosion would annihilate the fiend, it would at the very least do painful damage to the traveler. Thankfully, the gas pathways were deep within the Bomb's body, and therefore required a deep slash to be punctured.

The Bomb shook in its tracks, and then swooped down low, its flames lapping out and catching on to some of the wildflowers, as it tried to ram Neirana. However, the girl was prepared for it, and as the fiend sped at her, she pivoted on her left foot, removing herself from the Bomb's path. Neirana continued her spin, and slashed the fiend in the back as it went by. Her sword cut a clean, surgical line, and Neirana gave thanks to her father's skill as a swordsmith. 

The instructors provided most of the trainees with weapons, yet many of the students were not comfortable with someone else's sword, or lance, or staff, or whatever their weapon of choice was. Masa Sutir was fully aware of this. 

He had spent several hours taking all of Neirana's measurements, factoring in her agility, her height, her weight, her speed, and her muscle strength. Masa had asked her whether she preferred to stab or to slash, if she was an offensive or defensive fighter, how she held the sword, if she had any favorite techniques, and many other things. After he had gotten all that information, Masa had gone into his smithery and forged his daughter a blade. 

It was a thin sword, almost like a rapier in thickness, yet about an inch wide. It was completely straight except for where it went into a zigzag pattern three or so inches above the hilt. The hilt was a brilliant silver, like the blade, and inlaid with a brilliant emerald at the bottom, "To mirror your eyes," Masa had said. It was an unbelievably fast and accurate sword, matching Neirana's own speed and accuracy, and it cut cleanly. Neirana had named it Quicksilver.

Angry at the 'thing' that had bitten it, the Bomb turned and hissed some more at its opponent. Thankfully, Neirana's slice had not hit one of the gas veins. She brushed her blonde ponytail over her shoulder, and lifted Quicksilver up in a salute, before sinking down into another defensive stance. Neirana was laughing inside. This was almost too easy!

"C'mon 'Rana! Let's go!" Kecci was cheering her on from the sidelines, from behind the chain link fence that surrounded the training arena. Neirana spared a second to look at her best friend, and she gave him a smile. 

Kecci was dressed in the long, flowing white robes of the Healers, a sharp contrast to her own tight blue shorts and formfitting gray top, designed to hamper movement as little as possible. His dark eyes were twinkling as he cheered for her, his arm pumping in the air. Kecci's hair was longer than it had been as a child, but it wasn't what anyone would refer to as 'long', being only right above his eye level. 

Frankly, Neirana thought that his haircut looked stupid, and told him so every other day. As Kecci's best friend, that was her duty. 

She focused her attention back to the task at hand, however. And not a moment too soon, for the Bomb rushed at her a second time bare seconds afterward. However, again, she simply pivoted to avoid the attack. Once more, Quicksilver struck, slashing deeper this time, but still not deep enough to burst a vein. 

Now infuriated by the sharp pains it was surely feeling, the fiend tried a different tactic this time. The flames surrounding the Bomb grew bigger, and it suddenly formed a fireball and threw it at the girl. Neirana, expecting another rush, was unprepared for this attack, and it hit her square in the midsection. 

Neirana felt herself being picked up and thrown backwards; landing in a patch of wildflowers that luckily cushioned her fall. And then the pain of being burnt hit her, and she fought back the urge to scream. 'No… I still have to finish this…' Neirana thought to herself. Fighting the pain and waves of nausea, Neirana shakily climbed to her feet.

She caught a glimpse of the look of worry on Kecci's face, and she gave him a quick wave to reassure him, let him know she was okay. Neirana passed a hand over her eyes to try and clear her blurry vision, and in that moment, she became aware of the Bomb making one final rush at her, hoping to take out its opponent at last. And so, being caught out of her carefully planned defensive stance, Neirana did the only thing she could do.

Quicksilver came up, and stabbed straight through the Bomb, spitting it all the way through.

The move was a mistake, and Neirana knew it. For even as the pyreflies wisped out from the fiend's body, they were joined by the hissing of explosive gas from the Bomb's veins.

The next thing Neirana knew was fire, and an unbelievable noise. She felt herself being thrown back against the fence, and then an unimaginable pain… and then Neirana knew only darkness.

* * *

Neirana never expected to wake up at all. And if she did expect to wake up, she was expecting to wake up crippled for life, or something like that. Okay, maybe just in incredible pain. However, she was most definitely NOT expecting to wake up feeling soft, and warm, and pleasant, and comfortable, and all those nice things in general.

She moaned, and then heard a quiet, loving, voice whisper to her. "Shh… save your strength. You almost died out there." Neirana felt warm hands on her stomach, sending waves of pleasant energy into her, greatly speeding up her body's own self-repair capabilities. 

Shrugging off the urge to return to the blessed plane of unconsciousness, Neirana willed her eyes open, and saw that she was in her room, on her bed. It was dark outside—'How long have I been asleep?' wondered Neirana—and she could barely make out the figure of someone sitting at her bedside, hands on her stomach. The soft rainbow glow of healing magic radiated from his—judging by the person's voice, he was male—fingertips.

Although Neirana was unable to see who the figure was, she knew inside. "K-Kecci?" She murmured.

"Yep. It's me, 'Rana…" 

Neirana weakly grabbed his hand with her own, and her best friend willingly held it comfortably. "How'd I get here…?" she whispered.

Kecci squeezed her hand gently. "The instructors rented a chocobo to take you back into the city, I volunteered to come with you. You were in need of some healing magic, big-time… and I AM the top of the class. We brought you home, took you up here, got you changed into some less-burnt clothes, and put you in bed. I've been healing you ever since."

Laughing softly, Neirana clung to Kecci's hand like it was the last thing connecting her to life, finding comfort in the pure reality and warmth of his touch. "You… were always… a liar, Kecci. You know… you just wanted to… see me… naked." 

"Of course, Neirana. Of course." Although she couldn't see him, Neirana could hear his smile in his voice. Kecci was just glad she was okay. "Seeing you naked is always a plus."

She closed her eyes again and relished in the warmth that flooded her body. What was this feeling…? "My parents? Quicksilver?"

With his other hand, Kecci gently stroked her cheek, and Neirana smiled softly to herself. He felt so alive. "Your parents were worried, of course… what parents wouldn't be? But when they saw that you were in good hands, they calmed down a bit… and the instructors managed to get Quicksilver for you! Your father really is an amazing swordsmith, 'Rana. I mean, that sword was caught in the middle of a huge explosion. It wasn't even singed!"

"Mmm…" Neirana was feeling an almost uncontrollable urge to go to sleep… why fight it? "Hey, Kecci?"

"Yes?"

"Will you just hold me?"

"Of course…" And he did as he said, and held her… and she drifted off into the blessed realm of dreams.


	4. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter Thre...

**Chapter Three**

**Three Weeks Later**

Neirana walked down the cobblestone streets of the residential section of Luca. It was dark, the sun was not yet up, and the occasional bum—however, Luca managed its homeless problem quite well—was sprawled on the sidewalk. The girl, who had exchanged her normal casual wear for an outfit that was entirely tri-chromatic: blue sneakers, green shorts, a blue jacket over a golden top, and a green, blue, and gold bandanna around her neck with the logo of the Kilika Beasts blitzball team on it. Matching her outfit was her face, which she had painted over with her team's colors. 

The street she was on was not one of the bigger roads in Luca. It was a narrow side street by the ocean, and as far away from the center of Luca and the blitzball stadium as it was as possible to be. However, cramped though it was, it was clean, and the soft torches flaming on the lampposts provided warm, flickering light. House after house was crammed in tight along the sides of the street, and it would be easy for a stranger to get lost. Neirana had been coming here every day for a long, long, time, ever since Kecci's family had moved, and she knew exactly where she was going.

Stopping in front of a small yet welcoming house, Neirana whispered loudly at a window on the second floor. "Hey, Kecci! Time to go!"

There was no response.

The girl called again, this time in a soft shout. "Kecci! Come on!" 

Again, the window she was calling to showed no sign of reaction from within.

Frustrated this time, Neirana pounded on the wall and shouted. "Kecci, we're gonna be late if you don't move your sorry lazy butt RIGHT NOW!" A bum passing by on the street shot her a weird glance but said nothing.            

This time, Neirana got a reaction. The door opened a crack, and Kecci's mother poked her head out. "Oh, Neirana! Come in, come in! You'll catch your death of cold out there!" Neirana tried to protest, but she was cut off and led inside the house to the small kitchen that the family used. What seemed like hundreds of drawings Kecci had done as a child and as a teenager adorned the walls of the small room. Aside from a cooking unit, a sink, a pantry, and a lone table in the middle of the kitchen, there was nothing else in there. But then again, there was nothing more they needed. 

Mrs. Hayado was decidedly unlike the 'plain yet sufficient' motto that her kitchen seemed to go by. She was one of the most striking women Neirana had ever seen, tall, dark-skinned, and beautiful, with long, curly hair, a flair for showmanship, and one of the kindest hearts possessed by anyone in Spira. Mrs. Hayado would always tell Neirana that she needed to bulk up some, that she needed to eat more. And then she would pile never-ending amounts of seconds and thirds and fourths on the girl's plate. 

"Now then, dear," she was saying, as she went to the pantry. "Is there anything I can get you while we're waiting for Kecci to get dressed? Food, drink, anything?"

Neirana laughed. "No thank you, Mrs. Hayado. I already ate." She sat down at the table, and leaned back, as Mrs. Hayado quickly put together a ham sandwich and set it in front of her, nevertheless. She picked up half of it and began to nibble at it, mockingly protesting, "Mrs. Hayado, you're going to ruin my figure!"

Smiling, Kecci's mother responded, "Well, not if you keep eating like that!" The two women shared a laugh before Kecci came downstairs, looking oddly like he wanted to go back to bed. However, when he saw Neirana fully dressed in the colors of the Kilika Beasts, a large grin crept on to his face and it looked like he was going to burst into laughter at any second, but he contained it successfully. 

"'Mornin'." Yawned her best friend, sliding out one of the wooden chairs and plopping down in it. His mother quickly set a plateful of steaming pancakes in front of him, and the teenage boy tore at them eagerly. Despite everything, Kecci was still small for his age.  "More, please?" He held up his plate to his mother, an eager look on his face, but was cut off by an impatient glare from Neirana. Kecci sighed. "Sorry, 'Rana. But I'm hungry!"

Neirana stood up from the table, and took another bite of her sandwich, before handing it to Kecci. "You can eat that on the way! But we have to hurry! Otherwise, we're not gonna make it before tickets go on sale!"

Her friend fought the need to roll his eyes. "Seriously, 'Rana… are front-row seats THAT important?"

"Yes!"

"Well… then let's go!" Kecci smiled at her. 

The two friends thanked Mrs. Hayado much, and she gave her son a big hug and kiss on the forehead, which made him blush in embarrassment. And then they were off to the blitzball tournament. 

* * * 

Slowly, the sun crept from its hiding place behind the horizon, its golden fingers streaming over the ocean. The light washed over the skyline of Luca, the buildings and homes that were the biggest city in Spira. The most prominent structure on the skyline was not a house or anything of the sort, however. It was a large, bowl-shaped structure, with docks and piers protruding from it into the blue sea like spokes on a tire. Luca's famous blitzball stadium was an absolutely massive structure, easily dominating the rest of the skyline with its huge bulk. 

On most days, at sunrise, the stadium would be empty, deserted except for several janitors and the like. Today, however was different. Even at this early hour, a crowd was forming outside the main entrances to the building. Their voices merged together to create an incessant buzz, as they all talked about their favorite teams, the best players, and who would take the Crystal Cup this time around. 

The line went halfway around the immense stadium, and it was steadily growing. At the beginning, there were several ticket booths, none of which were open. Behind the booths were the gates to the interior of the stadium itself. Once one was in the stadium, they could either go around to the various docks, or go through the main passage into the stadium. 

Seating in the gigantic stadium was done by sections, which were circles arranged in a concentric pattern. The section closest to the blitzball arena was Section A, behind that was Section B, and so on. There were also four levels for each of those sections. 

All of those sections, all the way up to Section M, were going to be full on this occasion. Today was the biggest blitzball tournament of the year, and Neirana Sutir was absolutely not going to miss it. The girl, decked out in the colors of her favorite team—the Kilika Beasts—was near the front of the line for tickets, barely able to contain her excitement. "Kecci, here he comes!" she whispered excitedly to her best friend, as the man who wore a badge proclaiming him as part of the stadium staff approached to unlock the gates.

The minute the gates were open, the crowd let loose a loud cheer, and frantic blitzball fans pushed forward, eager to get their hands on the magic slips of paper that would allow them to get the best seats possible. Neirana edged her way through two slightly overweight fans dressed in the colors of the Luca Goers, and grinned at the man behind the ticket counter. "Two tickets for Section A, Level Two, Goalside, please!"

After the man printed the tickets out, Neirana's grin grew wider, and she paid, taking the tickets. "Kecci, come on!" She said, taking her best friend's hand and pulling the sleepy boy out of the line, which was quickly losing all pretense at order. Blitzball fans could be downright crazy when it came down to it.

Kecci yawned—he still wasn't completely awake. "Did you get the tickets, 'Rana?" he asked sleepily. 

She smiled, waving the two 'Section A' tickets in front of his face. "You better believe it! We're gonna have the best seats in the…" her voice trailed off and her face grew concerned. "Kecci, are you okay?"

Her best friend was completely silent, staring off into the distance, past the crowd. Neirana followed his gaze to see the Crusaders, looking sharp in their red and blue uniforms, patrolling the gates, helping to keep order.

One of the Crusaders had a little boy with him, obviously his son. The child was staring up at his father, in total admiration, watching his father keep the peace.

Kecci shut his eyes, wanting to block that vision from his mind. 'That was me…' he thought to himself. A sudden stab of sadness shot through his heart, and he clenched his fists together. 'Dad… why'd you have to…' 

Then, he felt a soft, warm hand on his arm, and opened his eyes. Neirana was staring at him, worry and caring evident on her face. "Kecci… are you okay?" 

The boy nodded, closing his eyes once more to try and collect himself. He looked up at his best friend—Kecci was still short for his age, and probably would be forever—and gave her a soft smile. "Yeah. I guess I just saw that… and missed my dad. I used to come here all the time when he was stationed in Luca. I was so proud of him… I admired him so much."

His father had been a Crusader, one of the warriors dedicated to protect the people of Spira from Sin. Rikai Hayado was one of the best, people still said. With his phenomenal strength, unmatchable courage, and unsurpassable compassion and selflessness, he quickly rose through the ranks of the Crusaders. Unfortunately, his high rank meant that he would have to command different groups of the soldiers—and that meant he had to move all through Spira frequently. Kecci had been eight when his father had started to transfer. 

Rikai had been unwilling to uproot his family so frequently, so he sent his Crusaders' paycheck home to them in Luca, and came to visit whenever he could. Then, when Kecci was eleven, the Crusaders clashed with Sin near the holy city of Bevelle. Rikai Hayado had lead a regiment of the soldiers in that battle, and they had been key in driving Sin away.

During the confrontation, Kecci's father came quite close to death, and afterwards, made the promise that he would go back to leading the Luca branch of the Crusaders. He went to one last post, on a peaceful island called Besaid, promising himself and his family that it would be his last.

He had been patrolling the beach one morning, before any of his men were awake, when he saw the telltale churning and wake, the bulge of water offshore that meant only one thing: Sin. 

Rikai ran back to the settlement on Besaid, and awoke the group of Crusaders there. They were hopelessly outmatched against the fury of Sin, but nevertheless, the 31st Crusader unit fought bravely, and managed to save the people of Besaid, driving the monster away. However, their victory came at a cost. Nothing was found of any of the 31st, and they lived on only through tales, becoming known as heroes throughout Spira. 

That was little comfort to Kecci or his mother.  

Kecci remembered the night he and his mother had received the notice. He had run out of the house, screaming and crying. He didn't know where he was running to, he just wanted to get away from the news, to pretend it didn't exist, to pretend it was yesterday. His father was okay; everything would be okay. 

The young Kecci had ran all the way to the shore, where the cobblestone streets of Luca gave way to warm yellow sand. That late at night, it had been empty, the only beings on the sand seagulls. And then, too tired to run any more, he had collapsed on the sand, his wails ringing out over the dark water. Kecci had prayed for Sin to come, to take him to be with his father… but someone else had come instead.

His eyes snapped open, as the taller girl wrapping her arms around him, enfolding him in a warm hug, and jerked him from his reverie. "I'm sorry, Kecci…" Neirana whispered, totally turning out the noise of the blitzball crowd. "I know how much you were hurt…" 

Blinking, Kecci looked up at his best friend's face, filled with concern. Neirana's tan forehead was wrinkled as she worried, her green eyes stared at him, caring evident in the emerald irises. And he remembered a scene oddly like this, four years before…

It had been her, hadn't it? Kecci had lived right next to her family's house and shop then… Neirana had heard him and had ran after him to find what was wrong. Her friend had been hurt, and she was going to help him, no matter what it took… She had come to him, and he had told her everything. They stayed on the beach that night, and had been found by Masa Sutir at dawn. Neirana and Kecci were sleeping side by side; the shorter boy nestled in his best friend's arms… 

Kecci wiped some moisture from his eyes, blinked, and then smiled up at her. "It's okay… it's passed. I'm okay now. I guess I just couldn't help but remember."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine… come on, let's go get our seats!" Kecci wriggled his way out of Neirana's arms, took his ticket from her, and led the way into the stadium, followed by a still-concerned best friend.

As he handed the ticket to the man at the entrance, and took the clipped stub back, Kecci couldn't help looking back at Neirana, and whispering, "Thank you…" 

Neirana looked up at him. "Did you say something, Kecci?"

A smile found its way onto Kecci's face, and he shook his head. "Nope, nothing at all."

* * *

"These seats are great!" shouted Kecci, grinning at his best friend. The two of them were slightly above and to the right of one of the blitzball goals. There were only four rows in front of them, as well. 

Neirana turned to him and cupped a hand behind her ear. "What?" she responded, straining to hear him over the roar of the crowd.

Kecci laughed, and then leaned in close to her. "I said, these seats are great!" Neirana turned to him, and opened her mouth to respond. However, her reply was drowned out by a hugely loud whooshing noise. 

Water was squirting from the gigantic pipes that were attached to the bottom of the clear sphere that formed the blitzball arena, with a deafening noise. The liquid spurted out, spraying all over the sides, slowly filling the huge sphere. The only other openings on the arena were the entrances and exits for the players. They were triangle-shaped airlocks, and the doors were closed now. Only when the players entered the arena would they open.

Neirana shook her head and laughed, pantomiming eating motions, telling Kecci that she was going to get up and go get some food. Her best friend nodded, and got up to join her. They left their bags on their seats, and went into the corridors of the stadium. Once they were far enough away from the noise that they could actually hear each other, Neirana tugged on her friend's arm, leading him down to the main level. 

Raising an eyebrow, Kecci tugged the other way. "'Rana, all the food vendors are on this level! Why do you want to go down there?"

The taller girl laughed, throwing her blonde ponytail over her shoulder. "Kecci, I come here all the time, trust me on this one! There's a great vendor down by the locker rooms for the players!"

Her best friend chuckled. "Oh, and you aren't leading me down there just to get autographs from the players?"

She threw a grin at him, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, Yevon forbid!"

The two of them went down to the main level, and turned to the right, heading to a cart that bore the name, 'Choco-Bob's Big Ones.' Kecci fought back the urge to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the name. With a grin on his face, he turned to his best friend, who cut him off with a look. "Okay, I KNOW it's a stupid name, but he makes REALLY good food!"

"I'll take your word for it, 'Rana." Kecci snickered.

Neirana ordered a meatball sandwich from the man at the stand, who was presumably the 'Choco-Bob' mentioned on the sign. After looking at the menu and pondering his choices, her best friend decided to go with the Chocobo on rye. Choco-Bob turned and began making their sandwiches.

As she began to say something, Neirana was faintly aware of pounding footsteps coming up from around the corner behind her, yet she paid no attention to them. The next thing she knew, her world spun around her as someone collided with her from behind, sending her sprawling. 

Neirana landed hard on her elbow, sending a jolt of pain shooting up through her body. Wincing, she stood up and began to yell at the person who had knocked her down, when her jaw dropped.

The man who had knocked her down was tall, very well built, and strikingly handsome, with a chiseled, square jaw, wavy, short, dirty blonde hair, and sapphire eyes. A small white birthmark below his right eye was the only thing marring his visage. The man's outfit was clearly a uniform of some sort. There was a brown band around his waist, with a gold stripe in the middle of that. Below the brown band, he was wearing green shorts, with a blue, brown, and gold triangle pattern at the bottom. His sandals, which went up and covered his shins as well, were a rich blue. The gloves that the man wore matched the sandals perfectly. Above the brown band was a blue band, which attached to the red shoulder straps that helped hold the shirt up. Neirana knew this man—his image was on several posters around her room.

"Are you all right?" He said in a warm, deep, voice that made the awestruck girl think of chocolate of some sort. Neirana felt her knees grow weak, and a blush colored her tan cheeks as she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder. Unable to speak, she merely nodded.

Finally, Neirana found her voice. "Olawa… Olawa… Andresen…?" she managed to croak out. "The… star forward of the Kilika Beasts?"

The man grinned at her, displaying pearly white teeth. "That's me," he laughed in his wonderful bass. "I take it you're a fan?

The verbal dam that seemed to be holding Neirana back suddenly broke. "Holy-Yevon-I-am-such-a-fan-of-yours-can-I-have-your-autograph-I-love-your-playing-you're-my-favorite-blitzer-ever!" she burst out, stringing it all together as if it were one word. 

Andresen laughed again. "Sure, you can have my autograph! Do you have a pen and a piece of paper?"

Neirana fumbled in her pockets and then, finding her autograph book and a pencil, handed both to the blitzball player with unsteady hands. 

"'Rana, are you all right?" Kecci stepped over to her side. "You're acting all weird like…" he whispered to her.

"And who's this?" asked Andresen, as he signed Neirana's book, 'With love—Olawa', "Your boyfriend?"

The flustered girl shook her head vehemently, nudging Kecci away. "N-no! He's nothing like that!" She didn't notice the hurt look on her best friend's face, however, Kecci DID notice that Andresen's grin grew a bit wider.

"Well, too bad for you, pal, you're missing out on a fine lady!" The handsome blitzer winked at Kecci, then turned back to Neirana. "Well…" he paused, waiting for her name.

"Ne-Neirana!" she quickly supplied, her cheeks red.

"Okay then!" He laughed again. Kecci clenched his fists. This man's laugh was getting on his nerves… "Well, Neirana, I'll go out there and score one for you, how does that sound?"

The girl looked as if she was going to faint any second now. "I-I'm sitting in… S-section A… Level T-two… Ne-near the n-north goal." She stammered. 

Andresen's alreadywide smirk grew even wider, and he nodded. "North goal? Well, that's where all my shots'll be headed, so that makes it even easier! When I score, I'll point to you! That way, you'll know it's for you! But I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the second round, since me 'n the Beasts have been seeded!"

Suddenly, a loud buzzer could be heard from inside the arena, and Olawa Andresen grinned at the pair. "Well, that means I have to go! …Say, 'Rana-babe, after the tourney, come down to the locker room! I'll see to it that you get in… oh, and you can bring your little friend, too," he said, throwing a nod at the fuming Kecci. "Enjoy the tournament!" With that, he ran off, heading down the stairs into the area reserved for players only.

Dizzily, as if she were in another plane of existence, the girl staggered over to the food cart, where she paid for her sandwich, and walked to the stairs leading up to the arena, gradually returning to normal. Kecci did the same, and stormed over to her. "I don't like him." He muttered, once he was at her side.

Neirana blinked, looking at him. "Don't like him? But he was so friendly!" 

Her best friend frowned. "Maybe to you. But not to your 'little friend'. And also, it's TOTALLY obvious that he's one of those guys who only are into fangirls because they'll be willing to sleep with him. That man is obviously a total pervert."

"Kecci Hayado!" Neirana, holding her sandwich safely in one hand, put the other on her hip. "You don't even know him, and I think you're just assuming the worst! I think that's very unfair of you!"

Kecci sighed, and unwrapped his sandwich, taking a bite of it. She had been right, this WAS good food. "Sorry…" he said once he had swallowed his bite. "You're right… I'll try not to judge him, okay?"

The roar of the crowd ahead grew to hugely loud levels, and Neirana's eyes went wide. "It's starting! Come on, let's go!"


	5. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter Four

Chapter Four 

The two friends entered the blitzball stadium and were met by a wave of sound so loud that it was physically jarring. Fans all over the stadium—some draped in the gold and black of the Besaid Aurochs; some in the orange and blue of the Ronso Fangs; and a very small minority in the brown and black of the Al Bhed Psyches—were standing up and cheering, applauding, and shouting their lungs out. The biggest blitzball event of the year was about to start. 

High at the top of the stadium, in front of the announcers' booth, a tall man stepped forward onto a podium with carefully measured grace, and the roar of the crowd immediately died down to a dull roar. The man was wearing long, flowing, purple robes decorated lavishly in golden trim. He bore the great seal of Yevon on his back, for he was one of the Four Maesters of Yevon. 

Maester Ruko was tall and graceful, with a sharp, chiseled elegance to his fair face. He had dark hair that was only beginning to go white at the temples—Ruko was the youngest Grand Maester of Yevon ever—and a dark Fu Manchu mustache and a goatee. The Grand Maester had hazel eyes that were calm and placid, but made one feel like he was gazing into their soul.

As Neirana and Kecci slid past a group of four people dressed in the purple and gold of the Luca Goers, Grand Maester Ruko spoke in a rich, resonant, commanding voice. "Citizens of Spira, the people of Yevon, and fans of blitzball," he said the last part with a slight chuckle. "Welcome to the three hundred and eighty-first annual Crystal Cup!" As he said that, the crowd once more burst into applause. 

"The other three Maesters and I are privileged, no, honored, to be here." he said, gesturing to the three people standing behind him, all wearing purple robes—with less ornamentation, of course. 

Maester Nyasa nodded in acknowledgment, aloof as she usually was. She was a Ronso, a tall, massive, bipedal feline. Nyasa was a rarity among her people, having yellow fur, instead of the more common blue. 

The third and fourth Maesters were human, however. Maester Shiino was the head of the summoners, being able to call immensely powerful aeons forth in battle. He was a small man, quick and mousy, with graying hair that still bore traces of the brilliant red mane it was in his youth. 

Maester Tinei, the final Maester, was almost the size of a Ronso—quite an impressive feat for a human. He had a bushy blond mustache and beard, and crystal blue eyes that twinkled all the time with barely contained mirth. However, Tinei was the head of the warrior monks of Yevon, and it was said that when he was in battle, he was absolutely terrifying.

Once more, Grand Maester Ruko laughed. "Now, I am sure that you are all anxious to see the tournament—" the crowd cheered again. "As am I. Therefore, may Yevon bless all the teams competing, and may the best blitzball players win!" He stepped back, cupped his hands in front of him in the prayer gesture, and bowed. 

The gong that heralded the start of the tournament was drowned out by the roar of the crowd. 

Well, Jecco, here we are at yet another Crystal Cup! I'm sure excited about this year's tournament, how about you?

_I'm practically wetting my pants here, Nita. From what we've seen in the regular season, there are some really outstanding players in the lineup of these six teams. I think that we're going to see some excellent playing today_

Right you are, Jecco! Without a doubt, the player to watch—if you're in the mood to see a flashy offensive player, of course—is Olawa Andresen of the Beasts. 

"Sit down, 'Rana!" Kecci shook his head, trying not to laugh, as he tugged her back down into her seat. At the mention of Andresen's name, the girl had leapt up and begun cheering like a madman. "Geez. Fangirls." 

That's absolutely right. Andresen has proven time and again that he's one of, if not THE best shot in the entire Spira League. 

_But, he's not alone. The Luca Goers are looking especially strong this year, with the triple threat of Eshi Ames at midfield, and Yaton Chumbo and Paeli Brooks as power forwards. The other teams in the tournament have to really watch out for those three._

_True, true. However, Andresen has the speed needed. He can also count on assistance from middie Sena Kukata—_

_Man, she's a fox._

_—I don't disagree, Nita. But she's got a deadly pass to boot._

_Jecco, her pass and his shot might not be enough. I expect them to be absolutely clobbered by the defensive team of Ori and Hanta Ronso. They put that Psyche forward off the roster for an entire season, didn't they?_

_Yes, Likki Mikto, that's correct. Which brings me to the Al Bhed Psyches… nothing looking especially strong this year, but the Psyches are just good all around, wouldn't you say? _

_They're stronger on defense, I'd say, but yes, they're fairly good all around. However, you can expect the Aurochs to be the kings of defense this year. With Hiro Nolo and Rina Lichi as their backs, and Tendo Gouli as their keeper… I'll be surprised if the opposition scores ANYTHING against them._

_Nita, can you think of anything to say about the Guado Glories? _

_I'm wondering why they bothered showing up this year, if that's what you mean.  _

_Good point. Sorry, Glories, but you're not going to last very long, in our humble opinion._

_They're in the first match, Jecco, so I think we can bid them a premature 'adieu.' They're up against the Aurochs, and here they are entering the arena now!_

_I gotta say, Nita, that the Aurochs look really confident. They'll probably be taking the cup this year._

_Couldn't agree more. The only other teams that might have a chance are the Fangs and the Beasts… but I guess we'll just have to see._

_The two teams are taking their places… and they're off!_

And we have blitz-off, ladies and gentlemen! It's caught by Trie Guado of the Glories; she flips it to Zev at right forward, he passes across to…no, it's intercepted! Risto Minnd takes the ball, quick pass to Linde Haras, but here comes Trie again, and she looks ticked… she goes for the tackle, but Haras dodges it! Passes back to Minnd—wait, she still has the ball, that was a fake-out, she shoots… GOOOOAL! Aurochs lead, 1-0!

Jecco, the Aurochs just scored without breaking a sweat in the first minute alone. The Glories are completely outmatched.

Right you are, Nita. I almost feel sorry for left forward (and team captain) Lyska Guado, this is officially his last match. We've seen a lot of seasons out of him, but he's out of his prime by far… I guess he wanted to go out with a bang. But one ex-superstar does not a winning team make, Nita.

Too bad for Lyska. But he won't be completely gone from the wide world of blitz; he'll be joining us as a commentator starting next season! Anyway, back to the game! Trie receives the ball, a quick pass… back to the Guado defense? What on earth are they doing, Jecco?

I have no idea—wait—Toka Guado takes it, a LONG pass forward to Zev—he fumbles it! He's gonna hear about that one come halftime, you can bet on that! Hiro Nolo of the Aurochs recovers the ball, and rockets it up to Minnd. Minnd flips to Haras—Toka intercepts it! OOH! Haras and Minnd just took the ball back in a major way! Bet he'll be feeling THAT one in the morning! 

Linde Haras and Risto Minnd are the hardest-hitting forwards in the league, Jecco, I've always said it. Anyway… Haras is in control of the ball again, behind the back to Minnd… wait, what's he doing? Minnd is… he isn't! Those can't be the signature 'Tricky Fingers' of… Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's the Slip Shot! Ina Guado goes for the tackle… Risto Minnd evades! He shoots! He scores!! 

Talk about adding insult to injury, ladies and gentlemen! Risto Minnd, using the very technique that Lyska Guado made famous ten years ago! 

Boy, Jecco, ya gotta figure that Lyska's feeling pretty ticked right now. Minnd pulled that shot off practically perfectly. Almost as good as Lyska himself seven seasons ago. 

There's the halftime buzzer, ladies and gents! As the teams make their way off the field, the Aurochs lead the Glories, 2-nil! 

Neirana slouched back in her seat, a pout on her face. "Man, this SUCKS! I wanted to see a blitzball match, not a slaughter! The Glories are getting the crap kicked outta 'em!" She sighed. "I wish they'd just hurry up and get this over with."

In the seat beside her, Kecci looked over at his friend, raising an eyebrow. Since many of the fans had gotten up to go get refreshments during the halftime break, the roar had died down, and he could hear her once more. "And this has nothing to do with the fact that you want to see…" he sighed and put a dreamy tone into his voice, imitating her perfectly. "Olawa…Olawa… Andresen," his voice returned to its normal baritone. "Does it?" Kecci smirked at her.

"For your information, it has NOTHING at all to do with it!" Neirana turned and socked her companion lightly on the shoulder. "I just want to see some real blitzball!"

Kecci shrugged. "Well, you can bet that Lyska Guado's really mad. And that means he's probably gonna be more aggressive… maybe things'll even out in the second half, huh?"

His response was a laugh from Neirana. "Kecci, you haven't been following the Glories this season at all, have you?" She grinned. "Fifty Gil says the Guado won't even score once."

"You're on!" The two best friends shook on it, and then sat forward in their seats as the crowd poured back into the stadium. Halftime was over.

And we're back, blitz fans! For those of you watching on the sphere, the Besaid Aurochs are leading the Guado Glories, 2-0. 

Now, Nita and I had a chance to go down into the Glories' locker room and talk with the players, and they're all fired up! We might see a comeback on their part during this half, folks!

"Ha!" Kecci laughed, winking at Neirana.

Jecco, in all seriousness, it's wishful thinking. Lyska Guado's very mad, as you noted, and that will make him more aggressive. However, it'll also hamper his thinking. Right now, what the Glories need is strategy. And an infuriated team captain just can't give that to them.

It was Neirana's turn to laugh.

That's a very good point, Nita. The teams are taking their places…and we have blitz-off! Tula Tambo of the Aurochs grabs it, he's heading straight down the middle of the Guado formation… BAM! Zev and Trie just clobbered him! Trie has the ball, fakes a pass to Lyska, and shoots it over to Zev.

Zev Guado looks like he's in trouble, Jecco. The Besaid defense is closing in on him…he throws a pass… Lichi goes to block it… unbelievable! The pass was aimed at her head, she's out COLD! Trie Guado catches the ball… passes to Lyska, back to Zev, no, to Trie… the Glories are on a roll, Jecco! With one of their defenders unconscious, the Aurochs are being overwhelmed!

What were you saying about a Guado comeback being unlikely, Nita? 

I just may have to eat my words there, Jecco…but unfortunately for the Guado, the clock is ticking! Trie evades a tackle from Nolo…passes it to Zev, Zev shoots it! This could be it, folks! Gouli dives…and deflects it! So much for that breakaway, eh, Jecco?

Don't be so sure about that! The ball is recovered by Lyska Guado… and yes…I think he is! The "Tricky Fingers!" He's gonna show Risto Minnd the REAL way to do the Slip Shot! Lyska spins…comes down and around, and boots it! The clock is ticking though… Gouli dives…NO! I don't believe it! Lyska's shot goes wide! He missed the goal! 

Lyska misses with his own patented shot! He's gotta be feeling the disappointment of that one right now… and there's the buzzer! The Aurochs win, 2-0! 

I feel bad for Lyska, Nita. He came SO close to going out with the bang that he wanted… but sadly, it was not to be. The Aurochs are celebrating, right now, as are their fans! And to the Guado, well, better luck next year! And Lyska, we'll see you in the announcing booth come the start of the new season!

Well, Jecco, next up we have the Al Bhed Psyches vs. Ronso Fangs! That match'll hopefully be less of a blowout, don't you think?

Absolutely, Nita. That, and more, when we return, after these messages!

* * *

_Well, Nita, we've certainly seen some fine playing today in this tournament, eh?_

_You said it, Jecco. For those of you just joining us, we are only 15 minutes away from the start of the finals of this year's Crystal Cup tournament! The two teams that have made it this far are the Besaid Aurochs, with the strongest defense in the league, and the Kilika Beasts, spearheaded by power forward Olawa Andresen and midfielder Sena Kukata. _

_Let's see how they got there! In the first round, the Besaid Aurochs overpowered the Guado Glories, fending off a surprise breakaway in the second half to win, 2-0. Better luck next year, Glories! Then, the Ronso Fangs squared off against the Al Bhed Psyches, in one of the roughest matches we've seen in several seasons, Nita._

_We all knew that the Ronso have the strength, but who knew that the dangerous defensive duo of Ori and Hanta Ronso were so completely vicious? _

_Not me, Nita. But good news, sports fans! We have word from Luca Hospital that Psyche middie Nissa Chukrum's condition has stabilized, and they expect him to make a complete and total recovery! But his heroic breakaway during overtime was all for naught, however. The Ronso Fangs beat the Psyches, 4-3. _

_At least he wasn't conscious to see it, Jecco._

_That's quite true._

_Anyway, that brings us to the second round. The Aurochs faced the fourth-seeded Luca Goers, and had their second shutout of the game, dominating the Goers 3-0. Surprising that the Goers would do worse than the Glories, huh, Jecco? _

_Well, you have to figure that Lyska knew this was his last chance. He wanted it more. We'll see him next year as a commentator, though. _

_The victory over the Goers put the Aurochs in the finals. In the last round we witnessed, the Fangs' defense once again put the hurt on the other team, this time the Kilika Beasts. _

_If you're watching on the sphere, you can see a replay of their double tackle on Kilika power forward Andresen… BAM! They just came in out of nowhere, Nita! I seriously was expecting Andresen to be out for the rest of the tournament, not just the game! But amazingly enough, he waved the medcrews off and continued to play! He is truly an astonishing blitzer!_

_The Beasts won that one, but the Fangs made 'em work for it. Ori and Hanta forced their second overtime, before a quick pass from forward Jike Yan to Andresen gave him a wide-open opportunity for a shot. Kilika Beasts win, 3-2!_

The clock is ticking, Nita. 12 minutes until the start of the game! Who will win? Who knows? We'll find out soon! Until then, this is Nita Rodis…

_And Jecco Tilber, signing out!_

* * *

"I'm gonna go take a walk." Kecci said, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms. "The noise level is…" he shook his head. "I gotta get up for a little bit."

Neirana immediately looked up at him. "But the next match starts in 8 minutes!" she pointed at the clock on the top of the blitzball sphere. "Are you gonna be back in time? I want you to watch it with me!"

The boy laughed, and smiled at her. "Relax, of course I'll be back in time. It's not like I'm gonna go walk around the entire blitzball stadium!" Kecci laughed again. "Besides, once the match starts, you'll be focused on Olawa Andresen. He didn't dedicate either of his two goals last match to you, you know."

His best friend crossed her arms defensively. "Well, he will this match! You just watch!" She sighed and then shot him a soft smile. "Just hurry back, okay?"

"No problem!" With that, Kecci edged his way past the other blitzball fans, and walked up the stairs to the next level, stretching as he went.

Something caught his eye off to the side, a flicker of red and blue… he turned, and his heart leapt into his throat. The Crusader from earlier and his son were stationed on the level above him, several paces to his right. The little boy was sitting on the railing, his father's strong hands on his shoulders, keeping him safe. The boy was cheering—Kecci couldn't hear for which team—and his father was smiling down at him protectively.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Kecci fought the whispers that boiled up within him… the sorrow, the grief. 'Sin took you away, Dad… I never even got to say goodbye…'

* * *

Crusader First Class Gim Hawling beamed down at his son, Yuma. This was Yuma's first blitzball game ever, and the six-year-old was having a blast. "Go Beasts! Go Aurochs! Go Beasts!" his son was yelling, unsure of which team to actually root for.

"Now remember, Yuma," he leaned down to speak to his son, who turned his head to look at his father in rapt attention. "When we go to meet the Maesters, you need to be on your best behavior, okay?" His son nodded excitedly. Gim had been posted with the squad of Crusaders that were selected to guard the Maesters' booth, a great honor. After the tournament, he and his son would get to meet all four Maesters. "And you know what that means, right?"

Yuma's face fell, a disappointed look in his brown eyes. "No pulling Ronso tail."

His father chuckled, nodding. The boy had always had a fascination with the Ronso, and unfortunately he was inclined to give a hard yank on their tails. However, the members of the tribe were disciplined enough to restrain their considerable strength, and merely gave the young boy a stern warning, which had apparently never covered other Ronso to the boy. "That's right. You need to leave Maester Nyasa's tail alone, Yuma." Gim playfully reached out and ruffled his son's dark brown hair. 

'He really does look like me…' the father thought proudly. 'I wonder if he'll be a Crusader when he grows up. I'd be so proud to be at his graduation from training…or maybe he'll join the warrior monks. Maester Tinei can recognize talent even at his age, they say.' As he thought that, Gim reflexively looked over at the Maesters' booth.

Maester Tinei and Grand Maester Ruko were pointing at the blitzball dome, both of them huge fans of the sport. In fact, Tinei had played for the Goers before becoming a warrior monk. He had been one of the best defenders in the game, ever. Maester Shiino was reading a book—most likely something about summoning, Gim thought—Shiino was supposedly obsessive about that. The Ronso, Maester Nyasa, was standing by the rear wall of the Maesters' booth, silent, impassive, as always. And finally, there was the stranger…

A chill ran up Gim's spine as he looked at the stranger. He was dressed in an outfit much like that of a Crusader, but in black and white instead of the usual blue and red… his hair was long and black, with graying streaks, tied back in a ponytail. But the worst part about the stranger was his haunting silver eyes. When Gim had been ordered to let the stranger into the Maesters' private booth, he had looked into the stranger's eyes for a moment, and seen an immeasurable… something. Whether it was sadness, or fury, or worry, or mourning, or anything else, Gim couldn't tell. But the eyes were overflowing with whatever emotion it was.

As the stranger had passed, he had paused, several steps to the left of Gim. "An ill wind blows…" he had said, looking out to sea, before moving on. Another shiver ran through the Crusader's body at the memory of the encounter. 

"Are you okay, daddy?" Yuma was looking up at his father, his round face showing bare traces of concern. 

Gim exhaled, relaxing muscles he hadn't even known he was clenching, and gave his son a warm smile, gently rubbing his shoulders. "I'm fine, Yuma. I was just thinking."

Even as he said that, however, he felt yet another chill run through his body, almost as if he were being watched. Gim looked down to the lower level just in time to see a young, dark-skinned boy dressed in the white tunic of the Healers-in-training turn away, hiding his face. 

'Too many weird people out today,' he thought to himself, trying to focus on his son and the blitzball match that would commence in two minutes. 'But at least my son's here. I just hope he enjoys the final match, that would make the day perfect…'

* * * 

Kecci slid back into his seat with thirty seconds left until game time. The girl sitting next to him turned and frowned at the expression on his face. "Are you okay, Kecci?"

The boy nodded quickly and forced a smile onto his face. "I'm fine." He lied. Neirana looked as if she were going to say something, but then the loudspeakers crackled. "Shh! The match is about to start!"

Well, blitzball fans, it's the moment you've all been waiting for! The final match of the three hundred and eighty-first annual Crystal Cup tournament! This year, our two lucky teams are the Besaid Aurochs and the Kilika Beasts! 

_Even as we speak, Nita, the two teams are entering the dome! And just listen to that crowd roar! This is gonna be a great match, eh?_

_You said it! Before the match started, I got a chance to talk to Beast power forward Olawa Andresen down in the locker room. He wished the Aurochs the best of luck, but then added that he and Jike—that's forward Jike Yan—had, and I quote, "something special cooked up." _

_Well, I can't wait to see what they deliver, Nita. The Aurochs are taking their position at the north side, now, and the Beasts are taking theirs opposite them. Say, Nita, who do you think is going to win this tournament?_

_That's tough to say, Jecco. The Aurochs' defense is totally A-quality, but so is the Beasts' offense. From what I can see on their stats, they're a totally even match. This one is in completely up in the air. _

_Although, if Andresen was telling the truth, whatever he was referring to might give the Beasts the needed edge. _

_Very, very true. Well, there's the buzzer, so hold on to your seats, blitzball fans! The finals are underway!_

_We have blitz-off! Sena Kukata of the Beasts recovers the ball—_

_Oh, stop drooling, Jecco._

_—Nita, you're just as guilty of it as I am. Kukata recovers, passes forward to Andresen, he takes it around the right side, Nolo comes up in a tackle—no, wait, Andresen got the pass off, a rocket to Yan, but it's intercepted by Aurochs' midfielder Tula Tambo. He flips it behind the back to Haras, across to Minnd…oh, that's a NICE hit by the Beasts' Mizi Chikara; she definitely looks happy about that one. _

_Chikara throws it up to Yan, it looks like it's going wide… no! Nice catch by Jike Yan, there. I thought that was gonna be a wild ball for sure. Yan, through the legs to Kukata, she's hit by Lichi, but she keeps her grip on it…a nice pass back to Yan. Yan, over to Andresen—Nolo gets a hand on it, it goes wild…Tambo recovers it! _

_Not for long, Nita. He's triple-teamed by Kukata, Yan, and Andresen…ouch._

_You said it; Tambo looks completely out of it. _

_He's waving the medcrews off, though. Let's hope he knows what he's doing. Maybe Tula Tambo is made of stronger stuff than we thought. _

_Andresen has the ball, back to Yan, then back to Andresen again…he hits it quickly to Kukata, she tosses to Yan… what are they doing, Jecco? They're just going back and forth! Kukata is now on a defensive screen, the Aurochs' defense is closing in…_

_This is one of the strangest things I've seen in a long time, Nita. But it's working! The constant volley between Yan and Andresen is confusing the Aurochs' defense! They don't know who's going to shoot!_

_Now they're swimming towards each other…wait, what's Andresen doing? He's pointing right at the north goal…what on earth is going on? _

_Search me. Now they're barely ten feet apart, going closer, they're just hitting it back and forth… Nolo's being held back by Kukata, but Lichi is getting closer…which of them is going to shoot? I have no idea! Andresen is still pointing at the goal…and now they're both together!_

_Yan knocks it straight up, the two of them go after it…the ball's coming back down again, this is it, folks!_

_BAM! Did you see that?!! AMAZING! They BOTH kicked it! A double kick, that baby's rocketing at the goal…Gouli dives… HE MISSES! TENDO GOULI MISSES THE BALL!_

_GOOOOAL! That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen, Jecco! They pulled off a double kick successfully! I am in complete and total shock, and so are the Aurochs! They're just standing there, dumbfounded! And the crowd is going completely wild._

_That's a lot more noise than I've ever heard them make, Nita. _

_And there's the buzzer! That's halftime, and the Kilika Beasts lead—with one of the most amazing techniques I've ever seen—with a score of 1-0!_

"Hey, 'Rana, that guy Andresen is pretty good!" Kecci said, awestruck in spite of himself. "And he pointed to you, just like he said he would!"

He got no answer. 

"Yo, 'Rana? 'Rannnnaaaaa… Neirana?" He turned to look at her, quizzically.

His best friend had fainted dead away in her seat, a crimson blush on her face. 

Sighing, Kecci gently shook her by the shoulders. "Neirana, wake up! You're going to miss the blitzball match!"

At that, the fainted girl bolted upright frantically. "Huh? What? I'm up, I'm up?"

She turned and noticed her best friend, not even trying to hold in his laughter anymore. Kecci was practically rolling on the stadium floor laughing. "What? What happened?"

Still chuckling, Kecci smirked at her. "Well it so happens that Miss Fangirl here fainted dead away when a certain member of the Kilika Beasts dedicated a goal to her."

"Oh. Yeah, I remember." Neirana's voice took on a dreamy tone, and her face showed signs that she was about to faint again.

"Will you stop that?" Laughing, Kecci sat back in his seat, successfully keeping any jealousy from his face. "If you faint again, you'll miss your team taking the cup!"

_Well, blitzball fans, we are back! That was an amazing half, wasn't it, Jecco? _

_I still can't believe what we saw there. It seems like a dream. I went down into the Beasts' locker room and talked with Olawa Andresen about that amazing technique, which he and Jike Yan refer to as the "Fireball." He said that the element of surprise had been lost, but if the two of them saw an opening, they would once more do the shot—although probably without all the passing between them, don't you think, Nita?_

_Indeed. That was obviously for show…if Kukata hadn't held Hiro Nolo at bay for so long, it would have failed. Now that the opposition knows what they can do with that, I don't think Yan and Andresen can afford to do that again. _

_The teams are coming onto the field, Nita, and will you hear the crowd cheer for Olawa Andresen and Jike Yan! Even the most die-hard Besaid Aurochs' fan has to be impressed by what the two Beasts did._

_I know I am, Jecco. And here they go…we have blitz-off, ladies and gentlemen! Tambo recovers it, he passes back to Nolo, who's coming up behind him, and so is Lichi…Nolo holds it for a bit before flipping it to Haras. _

_I see what they're doing. They're going with the 'Flat Line' formation, Nita, and that's quite a risk. They're trying to overwhelm the Beasts' defense to score, but they're leaving themselves wide open on defense._

_Personally, I have to disagree, Jecco. They're gambling on the abilities of their goalkeeper, and as we've seen today, Tendo Gouli has skills to be reckoned with. _

_Linde Haras taking it around the left flank, she's going low, here comes Chikara to meet her… Haras fakes a pass to Nolo, and…shoots! _

_NO! The shot is intercepted in mid-flight by Tambo, who immediately flips it over to Minnd…Minnd shoots… he scores! GOOOOOAL! That was a brilliant maneuver, Jecco! _

_Absolutely fantastic, Nita. Whoever thought of that one is a complete genius. Simple, yet effective! _

_Kukata gets the ball, she takes it up quick, man she's fast! They can't touch her! Haras and Minnd collide! That's gotta hurt, Jecco! She jukes out Tambo, she's unstoppable—BOOM! Jecco, I take that back. She never even saw Lichi coming. And Kukata looks like she's out cold! _

_Ouch. That's all I have to say about that. Lichi spins, passes to Tambo, he shoots it up to Minnd, Minnd across to Haras—intercepted by Yan, Yan to Andresen…Haras smashes Andresen but he's holding on, he's going for it again…and another tackle by Rina Lichi! There was no way he could hold onto that one, Nita. _

_Tambo recovers the ball, throws it to Haras…a fake to Minnd, she still has it, now she really passes to Minnd, he avoids Beast defender Ijo Yuronna, rockets back to Haras, she gives it a boot…Daimi Juksen dives, but she's too slow! GOOOOAL! And the Aurochs take the lead, 2-1!_

_This game has completely turned around, Nita! The Beasts have only one minute and thirty seconds to maybe force an overtime, and they know that, too. _

_Kukata is woken up, and the medcrews are saying that she's fine to stay in. Gotta hand it to that girl, she's a trooper. And here comes the ball… she recovers…passes to Andresen, it's intercepted by Haras, but Andresen steals it back from her! Nice moves, Olawa! _

_One minute left! Andresen over to Yan, he dodges Nolo's tackle, right back to Kukata, she shakes off a tackle by Minnd and Tambo…_

_The Aurochs have just put everyone on defense, they know that all they have to do is keep the Beasts from scoring, Jecco. Kukata back to Andresen, he tosses it up… swims after it… and so does Yan! They're going for the Fireball, blitzball fans! Can they pull it off? Only twenty seconds left!_

_And here comes the double kick…they shoot! It flies at the goal…if they score, they force an overtime! Ten seconds! Nine… eight… seven…!!_

_NO! Tendo Gouli deflects it! And there's the buzzer! The Aurochs take the cup! The Besaid Aurochs are this year's champions!_

_What a great game, Nita. We saw some truly amazing play by both teams, and it really came down to the wire. It could have gone either way, really. _

_The Aurochs and the Beasts are shaking hands now… and with that done, we'll take a break! We'll be right back for the award ceremony, blitzball fans! I hope you enjoyed the tournament as much as we did!_

Neirana sat back in her seat, her exuberance completely gone, a pout on her beautiful tan face. "They lost! Aw… MAN!" she kicked the seat in front of her, which the occupant had luckily vacated mere moments before. "I can't believe they didn't win! They deserved it! There must have been some mistake!" She crossed her arms, sulking. 

"Well, there's always next year, huh, 'Rana? Maybe they'll win next year… and it was a really good match, you have to admit." Kecci shrugged, next to her. "Even YOU can't deny that."

She sighed. "Well… yeah. But it still sucks that they lost."

* * *

Up in the Maesters' private booth, Tyron Sul closed his eyes, and his hand reflexively wandered to the handle of his katana blade that he wore on his side. There was definitely an ill feeling… but what was it? What was disturbing him so? 'Amono, my friend… why do I feel the touch of your mind? Why are you sending me this foreboding from the Farplane? Please… answer me.'

* * *

Several miles off the coast of Luca, where the city was just a small blur on the horizon, the water was a deep blue color, rich and majestic. There was nothing out here, only seagulls, fish, and the waves. However, there was one lone fishing boat out, today. The catch around this season was typically not very fruitful, yet the captain of this particular boat was deep in debt, so he had to try nevertheless.

The captain was out on deck with his crewmen, hauling in an almost-empty net, when the water around them started to churn and eddy, rippling with whitecaps, sending all four of the fishermen sliding all over the deck. The captain screamed as he fell, but managed to grab a bulkhead and hold himself steady. "Holy Yevon…" he muttered, pulling himself to his feet. He watched the churning and the bubbling, and felt the current tugging at his boat.

Something big was moving beneath the surface.


	6. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

"Risto Minnd, your team was truly the most skilled in the tournament. It is my honor to present you, and the Besaid Aurochs, with the highest honor in blitzball—the Crystal Cup." Grand Maester Ruko smiled, as he handed the shimmering bowl to the well-built captain of the winning blitzball team. Minnd, a grin on his face from ear to ear, planted a kiss on the side of the cup, and then held it into the air.

At that moment, the entire blitzball stadium burst into thunderous applause. Even the most zealous supporter of one of the other Spira League teams had to grudgingly acknowledge the prowess of the Besaid Aurochs—although she didn't have to like it. "It's STILL not fair." Neirana muttered to herself. 

The waves of applause kept coming, washing over the stadium; all the happiness and good feelings the audience members were feeling forming a nexus of positive energy. Up in the Maesters' Booth, all of the occupants smiled—except one. While even humorless Nyasa Ronso was cracking a fanged Ronso grin, the man in the black Crusaders' uniform wore a mask of worry and concern on his face. 

'Amono… why do I feel your mind? Are you trying to tell me something from the Farplane? What must I do?' Tyron beseeched the memory of his long-gone friend, but no answer came. 

And then a frighteningly loud bell began to ring, and everything went straight to hell.

* * * 

Atop one of the several watchtowers that lined the ports of Luca, several blocks down from the blitzball stadium, Crusader Fourth Class Edvir Minto was doing his duty, bored completely out of his skull. "I've sat here at my watchpost since dawn, saw absolutely NOTHING except a merchant ship arriving, and I didn't even get time off to watch any of the blitzball tournament!" he sighed to himself. "Well, I did my duty exactly as ordered. I better… get… promoted…" his voice trailed off. Standing up, he looked out at the sea, completely stunned.

About a mile off the coast of Luca—yet closing fast—was a huge bulge of water. Waves sloshed all around it, huge whitecaps crashing down on the ocean, as it left an immense wake. Edvir had only seen this once in his entire twenty-two-year lifetime, and it sent deep chills of fear into his heart. 

Finally, the young Crusader's limbs sprang to life, and he leapt towards the alarm bell located in the top-right corner of the watchtower booth. Clasping the rope in both hands, he began ringing it frantically. "SIN! SIN IS COMING!" He shouted, raising the alarm. 

As the other Crusaders heard the bell, they rang their own alarms, and within two minutes, the entire city of Luca knew that the terror they feared had come at last. 

* * *

"Neirana, what's going on?" Kecci asked her, looking around, confused. The bells had just started up out of nowhere…

His friend stood up, a grim look on her face. "I don't know either, but it can't be good." As her watchful eyes roamed around the throngs of stunned and confused people, she noticed that many were making for the exits, as quickly as possible. "I think we better get out of here, Kecci."

As soon as she had said that, a young Crusader dashed into the blitzball stadium, making a beeline up the stairs, to the top level, and sprinting for the Maesters' Booth. He delivered a message to the Grand Maester, apparently unaware that Ruko's voice was being amplified. The entire stadium heard him speak. "Grand Maester Ruko, sir, we need to get you out of here as quickly as possible. We've spotted Sin offshore, sir, and it's closing fast."

With that, there was a moment of stunned silence in the stadium.

That silence quickly became complete and utter pandemonium. Screaming fans of blitzball pushed their way out of seats, trampling others in their survival instinct, to get out of the stadium as fast as possible. Kecci and Neirana quickly found all available exits completely blocked by panicked crowds. 

As Neirana turned to run towards the exit, she felt something crack her on the head and she pitched forward, landing on one of the stadium seats, hard. A bulky man dressed in the colors of the Ronso Fangs shoved his way past her, frantically running for the exit. "OH, HOLY YEVON!" he was screaming, knocking people out of his way. "SIN!"

"We can't get out." Kecci's voice was soft and firm as he helped her to her feet. "All the exits are blocked." Hearing Kecci's voice, steady and strong, helped Neirana focus, to pull herself away from the panic that threatened to overtake her. She took a deep breath, and tried to keep her wits about her.

Unfortunately, none of the other people in the stadium were concentrating on staying levelheaded. The screams of terror echoed through the tunnels leading outward, and into the stadium.

With great difficulty, she finally managed to push away the fear boiling up inside her. "What should we do now?" There was no response. "Kecci?" Neirana turned to look at her friend, and then involuntarily stepped back at the look on his face.

Kecci was completely silent, his fists clenched, a look of anger on his face… no, hatred. In his infinitely deep eyes, there was a look of incredible pain… and then, the pain and hatred were swept from his face, and he was himself again—sort of. "Let's go up top." He said, in a hushed whisper. "I want to see this thing first-hand." 

Without another word, the dark-skinned boy turned away and started climbing over the now-vacant seats, going the opposite way of the frantic crowd. Neirana stared after him for a moment, then followed, unwilling to be by herself in the panic. Without Kecci's calming presence, she didn't trust herself…as she climbed after him, the girl reached underneath her Kilika Beasts jacket and withdrew a long, thin blade, just in case. 

As they reached the top row, Kecci turned to her, and his eyebrows rose at the sight of her sword. "You have Quicksilver with you?" he asked her softly. There was something odd in his voice that Neirana had trouble placing… but Sin was coming. No time for emotions right now, she told herself. 

"Dad says that all adventurers have to get used to carrying their weapons. He makes me take it everywhere I go… Good thing, huh?" Kecci merely nodded, then turned to look over the wall at the ocean. 

Before he could see anything, however, a stern voice spoke up. "Get out of here, kids! This isn't safe! Sin is coming!" 

Kecci looked at the Crusader who had ordered him away, and involuntarily stepped back. It was the soldier with the son… the very boy who was hiding behind his father, tears of fear streaming down his face. And from this close, Kecci saw how much this Crusader resembled his father. 

He had the same straight-backed stance that Kecci remembered from his childhood, the same neatly-trimmed dark hair, the same eyes that shone with bravery and passion… despite everything, despite the fact that a huge sea monster was about to attack, a debilitating stab of pain thrust into the boy's chest, making his eyes water. 

"But you're up here, aren't you?" Neirana's gaze hardened, as she tightened her grip on Quicksilver's hilt. "It's just as 'safe' for us as it is for you!"

The Crusader nodded silently. "But it's our job. Not yours."

At a loss for words, Kecci merely nodded to the soldier's order, and then noticed something. The man wore on his face the expression of a man who had accepted death. He knew his duty, and was going to face it like a true soldier. As Kecci looked down the stadium path at the line of Crusaders and warrior monks preparing for battle with the scourge of Spira, they all wore the same face. They knew they were going to die here. 

Seeing the horror on Kecci's face, the Crusader's gaze flicked down to the sobbing child. "My name is Gim Hawling… take him, please. Protect him." 

At those words, the boy burst into tears, clinging to his father's leg. "No, daddy! Please, no! Don't make me leave! Don't go away, please!" 

His father looked down at him, then gently picked him up and looked at him, giving him a tight hug. "Yuma, I love you. Go with these two people. They'll help keep you safe. Tell your mother I love her, if anything happens to me." Gim set him down again, and gently pushed him towards Kecci and Neirana.

Down the line, closer to the Maesters' Booth, a young Crusader, a woman, shouted out, drawing her sword. "Here it comes!"

"NOW GO!" yelled Gim, and turned his attention to the water, readying his weapon. At his command, Neirana stumbled backward, then picked up the wailing child and ran, Kecci close behind her. 

And then, with an ear-shattering roar, the bulge of water crashed up against the port, in a huge wave. From inside the stadium, Neirana could hear the screams of those who had escaped the stadium, only to be swept away by the tsunami. She shivered involuntarily, Kecci grimaced, and the boy began to cry even harder. The sadness of the previous moment was gone, replaced by a bone-chilling fear. Sin. Sin was here.

The screams of the people in the tunnels, screams of terror, they also changed. For Sin was not alone. In its wake, it carried hundreds of fiends, of Sinspawn—lesser monsters, easier to kill but extremely deadly nonetheless. The screams of terror were now screams of utter pain, and the people began boiling out of the tunnels, going into the stadium once more, pursued by legions of monsters.

Tightening her grip on the sword, Neirana handed the wailing boy to Kecci, whose face was much paler than usual. "Keep him safe, Kecci."

"Wait! What are you going to do?" He asked, as he gently sat Yuma in a chair, eyes wide. 

She nodded grimly at him. "What someone ought to have done by now." With that, she turned, and with a battle cry rushed down the stairs, heading into the crowds of fiends. 

* * *

Hearing the screams from below, Grand Maester Ruko turned, surveyed the situation, and then returned his gaze to the man in the black Crusaders' uniform. "Tyron," he said in a perversely calm voice. "Take a group of the warrior monks and go down there to protect the citizens from the fiends. Quickly, if you would."

As Tyron Sul nodded, and then went to obey, Ruko walked over to the mousy Maester Shiino. "It's time." He whispered to the shorter man. 

As he said that, an earth-shattering roar tore through the air, stunning most of those who heard it. Then, an enormous figure reared up from the ocean, water dripping from its black, lumpy flesh. Roughly in the shape of a whale, Sin was easily half a mile in length, and probably more—no one had ever been able to measure it, naturally. It roared again, from an unseen mouth, and then its skin began to fall off from its body.

What appeared to have been skin was not really skin at all, instead, it was a layer of fiends that clung to the real Sin beneath. These fiends were about the size of a dog, and insectoid, with segmented bodies, and six legs. They also had a wicked looking stinger protruding from their midsection. 

The fiends fell to the stadium floor curled up into balls, then unrolled themselves and sprang at the Crusaders and warrior monks. The defenders of Spira, however, were prepared for them, and met the monsters with naked steel. Leading the charge was Maester Tinei. Wielding an immense Greatsword that was easily eight feet long, his jovial blue eyes were now fierce and cold, and he snarled with barely restrained fury. "DIE, you children of EVIL!" Tinei screamed, cleaving two of the scorpion-like fiends in half with one stroke. Right behind him, Maester Nyasa wielded her polearm with precision instead of brute strength, spearing a fiend on the end, and then tossing it into another one, knocking both off the stadium and into the ocean.

Impressed and rather unnerved at the same time by Maester Tinei's actions, Ruko turned his gaze to Shiino and Sin. It was an odd contrast, really. The tiny human Maester, and the gigantic sea monster, yet both wielding immense power…

Shiino grabbed his summoner's staff, which was a rod of hard oak wood that was gold at the top, in the pattern of an eye. He began to twirl it around in the air, chanting words in a foreign language to himself. Slowly, dark storm clouds began to gather overhead… and then faster and faster, until the whole sky was dark. Almost no light could get through, making the afternoon seem like dusk.

As the rod spun above his head, the 'pupil' in the golden eye began to shine a brilliant white. Then, suddenly, Shiino threw it to the ground. The staff stuck, shaft first, while the eye crackled with pure white energy. A beam of pearl light shot up into the air, penetrating the clouds, pure and holy. It was so bright that none except Shiino could look near it; even the mighty Sin turned its bulbous head away.

Slowly, a figure floated down from the clouds, in the shaft of light, an angelic figure. He had three pairs of pure white wings sprouting from his back—one pair to fly with, one pair to cover his feet, and one pair to cover his face. It was definitely a male, of rather impressive physique, as well. He was wearing no clothes, yet around his waist there seemed to be a nimbus of light, obscuring any details he may have had. In his right hand, he held a sword, a longsword that glittered as though it were made from crystal. Everyone paused, stunned—even the fiends—to look at this astounding being of luminescence. 

As the angel hovered above the stadium, Shiino bowed his head as if in sadness, then reached his hand out to the being, although he was much too far away. As Shiino's arm rose, the angel's sword burst into flame, a white fire that lit the entire stadium, and even those at the bottom could feel the heat, their fear momentarily forgotten. At that very moment, the two pairs of wings that covered the angel's feet and face parted, all three pairs now used for flight. The angel stared at Sin with sapphire eyes, and then spoke in a husky voice. "I am justice."

The white flame on the sword seemed to flare up, becoming even brighter, as he pulled it back into a battle stance.

"I am vengeance."

Sin reared back, as if confused by this new opponent, one who radiated such power, especially for such a small being. Below, Neirana dropped Quicksilver with a clatter, yet didn't notice it. What was this thing? 

"I am the Holy Aeon, Gabriel." 

With that, he rushed at Sin with a piercing battle cry, and the battle was joined once more. 

Sin bellowed, a bass rumble that went down into notes humans were barely capable of hearing. It nodded its immense head, and a rippling wave of energy tore through the air at Gabriel. The much smaller creature slipped to the side, leaving the energy wave to crash into the side of the blitzball stadium, obliterating that area with an immeasurably loud boom. With the explosion, the air of peace that had settled over the stadium at Gabriel's summoning vanished, and the arena was once more dominated by the screams of the dying and the terrified.

There was a flash of silver; a wolflike fiend fell apart, cleaved neatly down the middle, and evaporated into pyreflies. Neirana turned, slicing at another of the fiend's pack, taking its forelegs off. Quicksilver flashed again, and she ended the canine's misery. For the moment, she was in the clear. Her heart pounding, Neirana brushed a lock of hair from her face and took a quick survey of the situation.

She was on one of the bottommost levels, on the circular pathway around the stadium. Fiends were pouring out of the tunnels immediately in front and in back of her, and large numbers of terrified people were backing away from them. One, a short woman in the uniform of the stadium personnel, saw Neirana with her sword, and frantically called out to her. "Please! Help us!" 

In front of the group that the woman was in, several large dragon-like fiends were closing in. One, drawn to the worker by her shout, raised its head and inhaled deeply. The woman began to scream in terror, but that only pointed her out as a target even more. With a mighty roar, the dragon shot a fireball from its gaping maw, hitting the stadium worker right in the stomach. Deadly flames wrapped around her body, and she fell to the ground, writhing in pain as the fire consumed her.

Seeing the woman's flesh bubble and boil, the sight was too much for the crowd, and they turned and fled in utter terror, screaming, pushing each other out of the way, trampling those unlucky enough to fall. Now amused by the antics of their prey, the trio of fiends moved with surprising speed, leaping after the mob. A bulky man in the colors of the Besaid Aurochs fell to the leader, the dragon's claws raking deep gashes in his back. His wails of agony sent shivers down Neirana's spine before a quick bite from one of the other dragons cut them off suddenly. 

The only thought that flashed through Neirana's mind was that she had to stop this carnage. All over the bottom level, fans were climbing over the seats, trying to get away from the fiends, but they were being hunted. Hunted like animals. Neirana lifted her sword and charged at one of the dragons, slashing at its neck when it was in range.

Her blade bounced right off the creature's hard scales with a loud clang. All Neirana's strike did was get the fiend's attention, and it turned to her from its fresh kill, blood dripping from its snout. In a flash, her common sense returned to her, and Neirana began to back away in terror, as the other two dragons focused on this new threat as well. 

"Your weapon isn't suited for piercing its armor…" said a soft voice from behind her. Neirana jumped involuntarily, startled. Behind her, a man in a black and white Crusaders' uniform was stroking the edge of his katana. 

He stared at her with piercing silver eyes, and a memory flashed into Neirana's mind… but she couldn't place it. "Neirana, I'll handle these three. Go help with the other ones!" he motioned behind him, where a group of warrior monks was clashing with a battalion of fiends. Not asking how he knew her name, the girl nodded and rushed off, leaping into the fray, Quicksilver glittering and deadly. 

The girl safely gone, Tyron Sul turned his attention to the three dragons closing in on him, annoyed that their smaller, more vulnerable meal was gone. "Oh, I've missed this." He said, putting his katana down and cracking his knuckles. Then he leaned over and grabbed the hilt of his blade—a good sword, it was, but nothing special. However, it would do the job.

Tyron held the blade out in front of him horizontally, parallel to the ground. Sinking his weight onto his back leg, he stood in that stance, daring the dragons to attack. One took the bait, springing forward, razor claws seeking to decapitate its victim. The older warrior shifted his weight, pulling back to safely sidestep the attack, and there was the barest flicker of motion from his wrist. His attacker turned around, angry that it had missed—and then its head fell from its body.

In the same motion, Tyron stepped through the two dragons, his sword cutting up and disemboweling one. Then, he spun, his black ponytail flying behind him, and drove the point of the weapon deep into the last dragon's heart, spitting it cleanly. Tyron pulled the weapon out of the fiend as it dissolved into pyreflies, and smiled grimly as the little glowing orbs wafted up into the sky around him. All three dragons were dead in the space of ten seconds. 

And the battle continued around him.

* * *

The white flames that formed Gabriel's weapon slashed out, cutting through the monster's armor as if it weren't there. Sin bellowed in anger as the angel flew away above it, and fired another of the energy blasts, yet the nimble aeon once again evaded the deadly beam. Both Shiino and his aeon knew that Gabriel's agility was the only thing keeping him alive. If Sin managed to connect a hit, it was all over. 

Gabriel's sapphire eyes flashed, and explosions of Holy energy burst from within the gigantic monster, boiling spheres of light that rushed outward, leaving deep wounds in the beast's body… yet slowly but surely, those wounds were beginning to repair themselves. Yet another rippling wave of power shot outward, and Gabriel twisted to the side, yet the tips of his wings were clipped nonetheless. The Holy Aeon grimaced. That had been too close…

Back down in the stadium, Kecci was trying frantically to keep the distraught child from running off to his father. "No! Yuma, you have to stay here! It's way too dangerous!" 

The child was writhing in Kecci's grip, kicking, clawing, screaming and crying. "I want my daddy! I want to go to my daddy!" Yuma wailed, trying with all of his might to escape from this bad person who was keeping him from his beloved daddy. Still, Kecci managed to hold on, and not let him go. However, it was an uphill battle…

With a deafening bang, a wave of rippling energy slammed into the stadium next to them, sending huge chunks of stone and concrete flying, as well as various people and fiends unlucky enough to be caught in the blast. The truly lucky ones had been vaporized immediately. 

Kecci tumbled head over heels, thrown back, until he collided with a bleacher, completely shattering it. His world swam, and due to the sharp pain in his head and upper back, he was sure he had a concussion of some sort. "Yuma… are you okay?" Kecci managed to croak out. Then, with a shock, he realized that the boy was no longer in his grasp. Sitting upright with a shock, Kecci fought the waves of pain and nausea that threatened to overtake his entire body, and looked around.

The section of the stadium he was in had been thoroughly decimated by the blasts. All over the place he could see parts of the stadium, parts of the seating, and most disturbing, parts of people. Yet there was a lot he couldn't see, since there were heavy clouds of dust and smoke all over the place. 

"Yuma!" He cried out, staggering to his feet. Kecci took a deep breath to shout again and began to cough uncontrollably as he inhaled a large quantity of smoke. The dark-skinned boy doubled over coughing, and noticed that blood was coming from his mouth. Collapsing to his hands and knees, Kecci almost gave into the temptation to fall into blissful unconsciousness… but shook it off, concentrating on the reality of his pain, of the jagged stone underneath his hands. He had to find Yuma.

* * *

Gim's sword was covered in dark blood from the fiends he had killed. Yet no matter how many he and his fellow Crusaders slew, there were always dozens more of the insectoid bastards. His chest heaving from over-exertion, Gim turned around to find his next target, yet noticed that he was in the clear, for the moment. 

All along the top few rows of the stadium, the fierce battle was raging. Fiend after fiend fell, evaporating into pyreflies, yet the brave Crusaders and warrior monks were steadily and constantly being pushed back. As Gim watched, a young man who he had trained himself fell to the onslaught, impaled on the stinger of one of the fiends. 

Under normal circumstances, Gim would have mourned, would have grieved. Yet the complete carnage around him dulled his senses. Everywhere he looked, bodies were piling higher. Some were warriors, who had died fighting, grimaces of pain forever frozen onto their faces. Some were merely normal citizens who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Some Gim knew, some he didn't. All of them massacred by the malevolence that was Sin. 

'We can kill thirty of them for every single man we lose,' Gim thought bleakly. 'Yet they'll still win. Yevon take them, all of them.' And even if you killed one of the scorpion fiends, it could still kill you even in its death throes, whether by decapitating you or poisoning you with its instantaneous-acting toxin. They couldn't win, there was no way. 

"Papa!" came a small voice from below him. Startled, Gim spun around to see Yuma, bruised and soot-stained, but overjoyed to see his father. The boy was about two levels below the battle, and was climbing up.

Gim swore to himself. What had happened to the boy and the girl who he had asked to take care of Yuma? Then the answer came into his mind—they were dead, of course. A pity, really. They had seemed so nice…

* * *

After several minutes of panicked searching, Kecci finally heard Yuma's voice, and staggered in the direction it had come from. Then, without warning, he was out of the dust cloud, and could see the situation. The little boy was about a level above him, and walking up to his father, oblivious to the danger all around him. Yet the danger wasn't oblivious to the boy in their midst. 

Seeing such a helpless creature, four of the insectoid fiends ran from their individual battles, eager to get some of this tasty morsel. Yuma didn't see them, but Kecci did. Trying his best to overcome the pain wracking his body, the older boy poured on all the speed he could muster. "YUMA!" he screamed, as he ran toward the child. "LOOK OUT!" he was ten steps away… five steps… four, three, two, one…

Kecci took the boy up in his arms, protecting him as he had promised… then he looked up and screamed, as the four fiends leapt, eager to kill… Kecci closed his eyes and waited for the end.

The end never came. Shakily, the older boy opened his eyes to see what had happened, and then literally fell over backwards, Yuma escaping from his grip. No, it couldn't be.

Rikai Hayado was standing in front of him, sword unsheathed, four bisected fiends at his feet. 

Blinking to make sure that this was real, it wasn't just a vision in his death throes… Kecci realized his eyes were moist. "Dad…?" he whispered. Slowly, Rikai turned around, the same proud yet loving look on his face that Kecci knew so well… he reached out to his son, offering his hand… and then the tip of a stinger appeared in his belly. Rikai Hayado looked down at the object, then looked behind him at the rest of the stinger impaling him… and collapsed, dead on the spot.

Kecci heard someone screaming. In the next second, he realized it was him. Shaken from his reverie, he saw that it wasn't Rikai Hayado… it was that Crusader. The boy's father. Yuma was standing over his dad's body, tears streaming from his face. "Daddy? Daddy, please wake up… please, Daddy, say something to me! PLEASE! DADDY??" Then with a wail of anguish, the young boy knelt over his father's corpse, and began to sob.

Not knowing what to do, what was real, what had just happened, Kecci did the only thing he could do. He rolled over, vomited, and sunk to the ground, sobbing as well. 

* * *

Maester Shiino closed his eyes, sensing that the time was right. Gabriel was at the peak of his energy… it was time to end the carnage. "Now, Irik… end it."

* * * 

Slicing a wing off of one of the bird-like fiends that were pestering her, Neirana was gasping for air. She was bleeding from countless places, she was exhausted, yet the fiends kept coming. 'They… I… I… can't do this anymore…' The girl fell to her knees, her energy gone. 

Then, just as she was about to give up and let the avians destroy her, she saw the most brilliant light she had ever seen, up in the sky. It was so beautiful… so pure… Neirana wished she could just reach out and touch it.

And then the light expanded, coming down to her at a breathtaking pace, washing over the stadium. As the light passed over her, she saw in her mind's eye the fiends around her evaporating into pyreflies, and she felt strangely healed… at peace. The light was soothing, calming, and Neirana accepted it, let it cleanse her.

Then she fell into heavenly unconsciousness.


	7. Arc One: 'Eyes of a Child' Chapter Six

Chapter Six _"Ieyui…nobomeno…"_

The Hymn of the Fayth? She could hear it… where was it coming from? There was nothing around her but a blissful white light, absolute peace. Neirana slept, drifting on endless waves of nothingness. Is this the Farplane? She asked herself. Am I dead? Is this what death feels like?

_"Renmiri…yojuyogo…"_

The voice… it was a child, Neirana was sure of it. He couldn't be more than ten years old, why was he singing the Hymn? Was the singer dead as well?

_She had a sudden vision of crystal blue eyes, stern and unyielding, yet at the same time warm and kind…a figure of light walked towards her, as if to pick her up and carry her from the mortal plane. The luminous being stretched out its hand to her… _

**"Hasatekanae… kutamae…"**

A single pyrefly wisped past Neirana's face, brushing against her and sending chills down her spine.

"Hm?" the girl croaked out, opening her eyes. Two more of the little glowing balls drifted into the air past her, up into the sky. And then, as Neirana looked around at the wrecked blitzball stadium, everything came back to her: Sin, the battle… and the light that had washed over everything, carrying her off into blessed sleep. 

Another four pyreflies floated into the air, leaving little rainbow-colored trails as they danced… they were dancing. Why were the pyreflies dancing?

She sat up and gasped as a sharp pain shot down her spine. But then she saw what was around her, and immediately forgot about any pain. 

Maester Shiino was standing at the top of the stadium, in the Maesters' box, slowly swinging his staff around in wide, deliberate loops. As he danced, the pyreflies danced with him. The girl felt another stab of pain once more, but this time in her heart. There were so many pyreflies… literally thousands were spiraling into the sky, as Shiino sent them to find peace and rest on the Farplane. 'How many died today?' Neirana asked herself in despair. 

Sin was gone, and it had left destruction and sorrow in its wake. How many of the survivors would come to wish that they had been fortunate enough to die in this attack? How many would thank Yevon that they had survived, yet die the next time? As tears poured down her cheeks, bitter thoughts ran through her mind. 

Then, all of a sudden, the bitter hatred in her mind vanished, replaced by a vision. A dark-skinned boy smiled at her, caring and warmth in his infinitely deep eyes, then he turned and walked away. He took no more than three steps before he exploded in a shower of pyreflies.  

"Kecci…" Neirana felt an icy hand grab her heart. Was Kecci okay? Was he even alive? Or was he one of the pyreflies now circling into the sky? "Kecci!" She shouted again, louder this time. "KECCI!!" Neirana screamed frantically, praying to Yevon that her best friend was all right. Screaming as loud as she could, Neirana frantically ran around the stadium, yet she found no sign of the boy.

As she was about to give up hope, however, a soft voice spoke from behind her. "Your friend is alright, Neirana. He left about half an hour ago… he looked shaken. You should go find him." She whirled around to see Tyron Sul, looking slightly tired but on the whole, okay. "Everything here is fine, and your parents have been notified that you are okay." 

As the icy sensation of fear washed away from her body, replaced with the warmth of relief, Neirana could only nod, tears welling up in her eyes. Kecci was alright… She swallowed hard, ignoring the lump in her throat. "Thank you…" she managed to squeak. "I'll go now…"

With that, she turned to flee, but Tyron spoke again to halt her. "Your sword." He said, holding her blade out to her. Feeling slightly embarrassed for forgetting it, Neirana nodded, muttered a quick thanks, took the weapon, and ran. 

As the young woman ran out into the city, the first thing she noticed was the stillness. Luca was the second-largest city in Spira, and it was normally busy and bustling, with activity and noise assaulting the senses on all sides. Vendors, businesspeople, sports fans, street musicians… Luca was where everything happened. 

Yet at the moment, everything was still. No one was on the streets; everyone was inside their homes. Most were unaware that Sin had been driven off, and those that knew were still too frightened to come out. As she ran through the familiar streets, Neirana saw no one. 

Her mind raced… where would Kecci have gone? He wouldn't have gone home, that was for certain. He must have wanted to be alone if he was as distraught as Tyron had said, and Kecci's mother was not the type to leave her boy alone if she thought he was upset. That left only one place he would be.

* * *

The waves lapped against the shore, unending. Every time they retreated, they would just come back in full force again, to batter the sand, to slowly wear it down. The waves couldn't be stopped. 'Just like Sin…' Kecci thought bleakly. 

Out beyond the waves, the sun started to sink down, below the horizon—'Has it really been that long?' Kecci thought to himself—below the waters that held their deadly secret. The young man was sitting on a small beach, which was completely deserted. He knew that normally there would be children playing in the sand, people swimming, splashing around, having fun. But not today. This beach seemed to be for mourning, now.

It was funny in a gloomy sort of way, actually. The last time he had been on this beach…his father had been killed. The younger Kecci had come here to cry, to be alone.

Now, Kecci wished he could cry. Wished he could forget everything he had seen and heard. But his prayers fell on deaf ears, as he was forced to remember it all…

Gabriel had driven Sin off. The immense blast of holy energy that had send the beast swimming away scorched the water, sending plumes of steam into the air. Mist covered the stadium, making it feel like another realm entirely. Yet the smell of the steam, the smell of the ocean, could not block out the sickening stench of human blood.

_Some cried out for water, some cried for their mother, and some cried for death. The lucky ones were granted their wish immediately. Those who were not so fortunate either lingered before passing from the mortal coil, or were unlucky enough to be saved by the priests and healers. But most had their pleas answered, and were sent to peaceful, eternal rest in the Farplane. Yevon blessed their prayers, and granted the people their wishes._

_Except for one boy who sobbed over his father's unmoving body, frozen forever in the embrace of death. His prayer would never be answered._

"Damn you, Sin…" he thought to himself. "Damn you…" Kecci lifted his head up, forcing himself to stare directly at the fiery orb sinking below the ocean. The ocean mocked him with its placid state. At any moment, Sin would come bursting out of there and bring nothing but death and destruction. 

Try as he might, Kecci could not get the vision of the sobbing child out of his head… it stayed with him, haunting him, mocking him. It taunted him for not being able to do anything. Yuma had wept, and Kecci could do nothing. There was nothing he would have been able to do to lift the burden from the boy's shoulders; a burden that had been placed on him far too early in life. 

A quiet voice spoke up from behind him. "Sin takes everything from us, doesn't it?" Kecci jumped and spun around. He hadn't heard anyone approach. Neirana was standing on the beach behind him, her colorful outfit torn and bloodstained, her hair disheveled, cuts all over her face and body, Quicksilver hanging from her belt. She kicked her sandals to the side, laid her weapon next to them, and went to sit by her best friend. 

She threw a look at him. "You look like something a Behemoth stepped on… you okay?"

Turning back to look at the sunset, Kecci swallowed hard. "I don't feel much better, honestly." As he said that, his best friend moved closer to him, and slipped a slender arm around him, pulling him close to her. In his turbulent mood, Kecci found her touch soothing, constant, unchanging, and he let himself be clung to. 

They stayed like that for a long time, neither saying a word, not willing to break the bond between them, watching the sunset. Kecci kept thinking about the little boy and his father… kept thinking about how powerless he had felt… and then, all of a sudden, he spoke.

"I'm going to be a summoner."

As soon as he said that, he felt Neirana tense up at his side, and he prepared to be bombarded by a flurry of arguments against his choice, yet none came. Neirana once again became relaxed in his arms… "I know." She said, as she began to tremble. "I think I've known for a long time." 

Thrown off balance by her response, Kecci looked at her… and saw that tears were running down her face. "Are you crying?" he asked her softly, but she shook her head vehemently.

"N-no. I'm not crying…" she sniffed. "I just… I've known for a long time what you were going to do… just as I've known for a long time… that when you made that choice… I would decide to be your guardian." 

He spun around to stare at her. "Are you crazy?" he half-shouted. "Do you know how dangerous being a guardian is? You could die out there! There is no way I'm letting you be my—"

Neirana glared at him with tear-streaked eyes. "Finish that sentence and I'll be obliged to hurt you here and now. I know you too well, Kecci Hayado. I know that once you've decided to do something, you never give up. Which means you'll either complete the pilgrimage, or die trying. And since you know as well as I do what happens to a summoner who defeats Sin… you've just signed your death sentence." Even more tears were falling from her face now. "And I think certain death is a bit more dangerous than anything I'D be doing as your guardian. And if you think I'm going to let you go anywhere without me… you're wrong. Dead wrong." 

Her breath caught in her throat as she tried to keep from breaking down into sobs. "Kecci, I'm coming with you. I… I…" she tried to find the words, but they wouldn't come. Neirana clung to him, as if she were afraid he would evaporate, like a mirage. "I…"

" 'Rana-babe!" a shout came from behind the two, and Neirana immediately let go of Kecci, a blush coloring her cheeks. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and looked at the source of the voice.

Looking a bit bruised and battered, but flashing his trademark white smile, Olawa Andresen was running toward the beach. "Babe! You're okay! I was looking all over for you!" He ran onto the beach and stopped several feet away from the two. "You had me worried, babe."

Neirana didn't answer. Kecci looked at her to find that her face was beet-red and she was stammering for words. To save her embarrassment, he spoke first. "How'd you survive the attack?" he asked the blitzball star, silently cursing him inside his head. 

Laughing, Olawa responded, "Me n' the other players have skills, ya know? Of course, our bodyguards helped too… throwing blitzballs at fiends can only do so much, huh?" Feigning interest, Kecci nodded, still mentally swearing at the taller man.

Climbing to her feet, Kecci's best friend finally regained her voice. "You… you were worried about… me?" she stammered, her face crimson. 

Andresen laughed again, then gave the girl a hug, causing her to squeak, nervous. "Of course I was worried about you, 'Rana-babe! All my fans mean a lot to me, but you mean more than any of them!"

If he hadn't been holding her up, Neirana probably would have fainted dead away. Kecci sighed, the mood completely gone. He turned away from Andresen and Neirana, and looked out to sea.

The sun's last rays were peeking over the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything… Kecci sighed as he remembered Yuma's face… suddenly, a vision of Rikai Hayado came into his mind. "Dad, I swear to you, I will give the people of Spira something to smile about. Sin makes everyone miserable, and I swear I'll take that misery away." 

Slowly, the bit of the sun that was still visible sunk from sight, leaving only the darkness of the water. The water with its frightening, deadly secret. Yet… it didn't seem so frightening anymore.

"Sin… I'm coming…"

**_~Fin~_**

End Arc One 

"The Eyes of a Child…"


	8. Arc Two: 'To be a Summoner' Prologue

_Arc Two___

Prologue 

It was still dark out when Neirana and Kecci found themselves at the wharves by the Luca blitzball stadium. The only illumination was from the stars and the moon, bathing everything in a silvery-blue glow.

The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. She was wearing her normal blue jean shorts with her lightweight, semi-transparent beige top, both designed to provide the least physical restriction possible. As a guardian, she would have to battle, and having loose clothing that could catch on obstacles wouldn't do. Her slender hand was resting on her sword hilt, as it dangled from her waist, cold mercury in the moonlight. Neirana was carrying a green sack over her shoulder, carrying all of her personal belongings that she would be taking with her. 

Neirana bit her lip softly, looking anxiously over at her best friend. Compared to her nervousness and anxiety, Kecci was filled with a serene calm. His dark face was placid, relaxed, in total acceptance of his path. The boy had ditched the long white robes of the Healers in favor of a green tunic, tied around his waist with a black belt. He wore loose white pants as well, comfortable and cool in the heat of the summer of Spira. Yet most of Kecci's outfit was concealed by the earth-colored cloak draped over his shoulders. In his right hand, he was carrying a finely carved oaken staff, with a golden headpiece shaped like an eye. All of his other possessions were all in the black bag that was lying at his feet. That was all he was bringing. He wasn't planning on returning.

To anyone else, the young summoner-to-be was the very picture of serenity. Yet Kecci's best friend could see certain signs that revealed his inner turmoil, from his unusually stiff stance to his white-knuckled grip on the staff he was holding. Kecci's dark eyes met her emerald ones, and he exhaled, giving a short laugh under his breath. The shorter boy gave an empty smile. "If we're like this right now, imagine what it'll be like when we get to Zanarkand." 

"Yeah…" Neirana half-heartedly laughed, the hole in her heart growing greater. She swallowed, and then took a step closer to Kecci, her hand slipping into his. Her friend squeezed and held it. Neither of them really wanted to leave. Neirana found herself looking back at the familiar bulk of the giant blitzball stadium, and the reassuring Luca skyline. These were things she knew, things she loved, things that comforted her. Ahead, all she could see was the blocky outline of the ship that would take them to Kilika, where Kecci's training to become a summoner would begin. There was virtually nothing there, just an emptiness, an uncertainty. And it frightened her. 

She was disturbed from her reverie by the staccato beat of someone walking towards her, and turned around. Her father was standing here, holding a square package that was barely bigger than his hand. 

"Dad, we said good-bye already… please don't make this harder for Kecci and me…" Neirana whispered, fighting the pain that swelled up in her. The shorter boy squeezed her hand again, trying to reassure her. The two of them had said a tearful goodbye to their parents and had left, not wanting to drag the painful moment out any longer than it had had to be. 

Masa Sutir shook his head. "I was thinking… I want to give this to you." He handed the package out to her, and she took it hesitantly. "You should have this… it won't make any sense to you right now, but you'll understand later." Masa started to back away. "I'll see you when you come back through Luca on your way to Djose… I love you." With that, he turned so his daughter could not see the tears on his face, and left.

Her father's eyes weren't the only ones that were wet at that moment. Neirana wiped her arm across her face, brushing the tears away. "I love you too, Daddy…" she mouthed silently to the stars.

At that moment, a loud creaking and then an even louder thud split the air as the gangplank of the ship was lowered to the docks. A man, the captain of the ship, walked down the wooden ramp, a slight limp in his step. He was middle-aged, with the scruffy beginnings of a beard on his face. His features were hawkish and sharp, with a long sickle-shaped nose. The man was by no means attractive, but his hazel eyes sparkled with cunning and intelligence. 

Taking a deep breath, Neirana stepped forward, Kecci at her side, as they cast themselves into the unknown. 


	9. Arc Two: 'To be a Summoner' Chapter Sev...

((Author's Note: The song Neirana sings in this part is 'Suteki da ne' translated… so it may not make that much sense… but it's the meaning that counts. :-p ))

**Chapter Seven**

The moon was high overhead, and the stars gazed down, specks of silver flame in the endless night. The wooden floor gently pitched to and fro, side to side beneath Kecci—they were at sea. The first few days had been rough on the young man, and he had spent more time at the railings along the deck than he had inside. However, Kecci had finally gotten his sea legs, and no longer felt perpetually nauseous. 

It was rather late at night, and the young apprentice summoner was lying on his back in the darkness of his cabin, completely exhausted. His bed wasn't very comfortable, but it beat sleeping on the floor. It was a small cabin, about ten by ten feet. There was one window, right above his bed, which looked out onto the deck, and another inlaid in the door. Aside from the bunk, there was nothing else in the cabin except for a small wooden chair and a little table immediately beside the bed. 

He was within moments of falling asleep when there was a gentle rapping at his door. Kecci sat up, and rubbed his eyes. "Come in…" he said. Why couldn't Neirana let him sleep? Just because she had more energy than he did didn't mean she could barge in on him late at night… 'Oh well…' the boy thought to himself. 

The door creaked open on elderly hinges, and Kecci's visitor wasn't Neirana at all. Instead, it was Captain Brand, the hawkish man who was the skipper of the vessel.  Although Kecci had at first distrusted him because of his lean, cunning appearance, Captain Brand had proven to have a generous, if a bit stern, heart. Brand stepped into Kecci's room and closed the door behind him, then sat down on the small chair. "I apologize for the hour of the visit, but seeing as how we reach Kilika tomorrow, I felt I should tell you something." 

Kecci once more rubbed the sleep from his eyes, yawned, and then motioned Brand to continue. The Captain hesitated, and then continued in his quiet yet commanding voice. "You are going to Kilika to study the art of summoning, correct?" The younger man nodded an affirmative. Brand exhaled, then continued. "I live on the sea… I've never been married, never had children, my only family is my younger brother. He works for me on this ship; you may have seen him doing whatever task needs to be done." Once more, Kecci nodded, listening to the elder man's story. 

Brand's younger brother was physically his opposite: where Brand was scrawny and aquiline, his brother was large, muscular, and bear-like. Kecci and Neirana had seen him using his formidable strength on several occasions on the ship. Yet he had never said a word to them, nor anyone else on the vessel.

The older man sighed again. "Nika—my brother—did not grow up a man of the sea, like myself. Instead, he remained in our hometown, a tiny village on the far side of Kilika Island. He grew up a tradesman, a carpenter. About ten years ago, he married his childhood sweetheart, and they had a child, a beautiful baby girl. They named her Taiya, which means 'Sunshine' in the old dialect of Kilika…" Brand's eyes grew misty, and they focused on a point somewhere in the distant depths of time. "She was beautiful, like her mother… she always laughed, even when she was hurt, she'd laugh to take her mind off the pain. Taiya had a little doll she carried with her everywhere, a little stuffed Chocobo… she couldn't say Chocobo so she just called him Mister Bo. I gave it to her on her second birthday…"

Kecci swallowed, a painful lump beginning to form in his throat. He had a painful idea where this was going. "It was two years ago, wasn't it?" he whispered, his voice hoarse. Even as far away as Luca, they had heard stories.

Focusing back on the present, Brand started at Kecci's voice, then nodded. "Yes, about two years ago. Nika was off in the main town of Kilika doing some carpentry work for a wealthy merchant. He must have told me the story a hundred times by now… my brother left home, kissed his wife and hugged his daughter, and told them he'd be back by sundown, to have dinner ready." The captain looked down at the floor. "When he returned… there was nothing left of our village. It had been smashed by Sin, completely destroyed. All that remained was rubble, a floating graveyard. In the morning there had been a peaceful village, filled with people he knew, people he loved… Sin had come, and the sun set on death. Nika found his daughter's doll in the wreckage." 

There was silence in the room for a long moment afterwards. After what seemed like an eternity to Kecci, Brand looked up at the young man. "You're going to be a summoner, boy. You're going to have the power to defeat Sin… I know I'm asking a lot… but I believe you can do it. Please avenge my brother's family. Please destroy Sin… so that we can all wake up from our nightmares for a while." With that, Brand stood up and turned to leave.

"Captain Brand…sir." Kecci said, and the old man stopped and turned around. "I… I want to tell you that I enjoyed the boat trip. Thank you for making sure that my friend and I had separate cabins… it would have been very cramped otherwise." He laughed, to dull the ache in his heart.

Brand shook his head from side to side, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "You don't have to lie to me, you know." 

Taken aback, Kecci coughed. "What… what do you mean, 'lie to you'?" 

In the silver glow of the moonlight, Brand could be seen smiling softly. As he opened the door and stepped out onto the deck, he turned to the apprentice summoner. "I've seen how you look at her. You love her."

"I… she… well…" Kecci stammered, glad it was dark so Brand couldn't see the blush on his dark face. "She's… my best friend, of course I love her. Neirana means the world to me, but she's nothing more than a friend."

The door started to swing shut on its old hinges. "That's what I told myself, too, when I was your age." Captain Brand shook his head once more. "Our time in Spira is finite. The question is, what will you do with your time? Don't leave this world thinking 'if only I had done…' or 'if only I had said…'. Make the most of your time here." Before the door could close fully, Brand stopped it with his foot. "She's out on the deck." Then, he removed his foot, and the door shut behind him, leaving Kecci alone in the dark with his thoughts. 

The next moment, he made up his mind, and stepped out onto the deck. 

It was a perfectly clear night, and millions upon millions of stars shone their light down on the ocean and the boat. Kecci looked down towards the bow, then back at the stern, wondering where he should go, when he stopped and listened. 

There was someone, a girl, singing softly. Kecci couldn't hear the lyrics, but recognized the voice and the tune, and then followed the sound to the bow of the boat.

Neirana was standing on the slightly raised portion out on the bow, the sea breeze blowing her hair back, the moon and stars washing their silver glow over her. The starlight cleansed her, washing her imperfections away. They lifted her up and made her one of them—beautiful and perfect. 

Her song wafted through the air like a pleasant smell, clear and pure. Neirana almost never sang, but when she did it was beautiful. She would never have a powerful singing voice, never be able to belt out ballads filled with passion and sorrow… her voice was soft, high, and clear, like wind chimes. 

"The wind brought your words to me, my heart was moved. The clouds brought tomorrow to me, my voice was cheered. As my mirror reflected the swaying moon, my heart shivered. The stars called to me, with their soft tears." Kecci knew the song well… Neirana's parents had sung it to her when she was a little girl, as they rocked her to sleep. The song had stayed with her, and she would sometimes sing it when she felt lonely, or when she felt sad.

Neirana kept on singing, and didn't hear Kecci's footsteps coming up behind her. "Isn't it wonderful? We could walk holding hands together. I would go where you go, in your arms. I leaned my body against your chest. I used the night to hide my dreams." She was looking up at the stars, at the moon, singing her song to no one, hoping they would hear her. "The wind stopped, and your words were kind. The clouds wept, and tomorrow was a distant voice. My mirror was cloudy, I could not see the moon. The stars swayed and dropped, like the tears I could not hide." 

Her voice broke, and Kecci caught a glimpse of her face in the moonlight. She was crying. "Isn't it wonderful? We could walk holding hands together… I would go where you go, in your arms…" her voice trailed off, and she bowed her head, leaning on the bow railing, holding herself up by sheer will alone.

Kecci stepped forward, and at the sound of his footsteps, Neirana turned around, startled. When she saw who it was, she flushed a deep scarlet and hurriedly tried to wipe the tears from her eyes. However, her best friend held his hand up, motioning for her to stop. "You don't have to be embarrassed, 'Rana…" he said, smiling at her softly. "Everyone cries." 

She shook her head. "I shouldn't. I need to be strong… we have to do this for Spira, remember? It won't bring the people much hope if they see someone who is supposed to save them breaking down, will it?" she sniffed. 

"No, it won't. But you don't have to carry your load alone…" Kecci walked over to the railing, and leaned on it, the breeze blowing past his face. "I'll always be there to help you. We'll carry it together."

His best friend leaned on the rail beside him, and even though she was still crying, Neirana laughed in spite of herself. "Listen to you! If anything, you have an even bigger burden than I do…" She sniffled again, and wiped the tears from her face. Then, she moved next to Kecci and rested against him, despite her still having the advantage of height. 

Kecci put his arm around her, and she willingly pressed against him for comfort. "No, I don't." he said at long last. "Because I've got you here with me." Neirana turned to face him, a bit surprised by his comment, and he brushed the few remaining tears from her face. "Whatever happens, we'll get through just fine… because we'll be facing it together." 

The two of them stayed like that, close, holding each other, until late in the night.


	10. Arc Two: 'To Be a Summoner' Interlude Pa...

Interlude (Part One)  
  
The first rays of dawn sparkled on the sea, dancing on the waves. Far off, over the eastern horizon, the sun could be seen, peeking over the horizon. The fiery globe was wreathed in a nimbus of gold and crimson, making it seem the sky were aflame. As the ball rose higher into the sky, the various beings that populated Spira felt its rejuvenating warmth, and stirred from their slumber. Animals arose and went to find their daily meal, children got up looking forward to a day of playtime with their friends, and their parents prepared to do their work for the day. A new day was born.  
  
After every night, there is a new dawn. However, in the lives of the people of Spira. even the dawn was tinged with darkness. Would that day bring peace, joy, happiness? Or would it come bearing hell and chaos? Was that rustling in the trees just the wind, or was it a hungry fiend, prepared to pounce? Sin had found a permanent place in which to make its home-the mind of every Spiran. The people lived their lives in fear, in sorrow.  
  
Summoners are the cure for that fear, for that sorrow. Able to harness the abilities and powers of the mighty Aeons, only they stand a chance against the chaos incarnate that is Sin. Only they are able to defeat the monstrous beast, although at the ultimate price.  
  
When a summoner defeats Sin, there is a period of peace and prosperity in Spira known as the Calm. During the Calm, townsfolk become neighbors, neighbors become friends, friends become family. The knowledge that one does not have to worry about waking up to find their life in ruins brings everyone together. Even the tensions between those who worship Yevon and the scientific Al Bhed abate during this period.  
  
Unfortunately, the period is finite. Sin is death, and death is eternal. Even after its destruction, Sin will return after several years. And then, brother turns against brother, friend against friend, neighbor against neighbor. When Sin stalks the realm of Spira, it leaves hatred and mistrust in its wake. The Yevonites and the Al Bhed return to conflict once more. Not only does Sin leave its mark on the land of Spira, it scars the souls of all who live there. The only salve for that wound is the Calm, the only doctors the summoners.  
  
When a summoner defeats Sin, they are awarded the highest honor in Spira- the rank of High Summoner. However, this is generally awarded posthumously, as the summoner will pass from the physical plane with their hated opponent. Unlike Sin, they do not come back. And usually, there is always someone left behind.  
  
* * *  
  
A smirk found its way onto Tyron Sul's face as he heard a growl come from the heavily shadowed foliage behind him. He was in a small forest about a mile away from the small town of Mi'ihen, and the dense underbrush intercepted most of the early morning sunlight, plunging the forest into near-total darkness. Deprived of his eyesight, Tyron was forced to rely on his other senses and on his pure, base, instincts.  
  
He heard the growl again, and widened his stance, sinking lower to the ground, his highly attuned ears straining to hear any possible sound. Once more, the growl came to him-the growl of a hungry predator seeking food. And in that instant, Tyron heard the whistling of the underbrush as the fiend leapt.  
  
In one smooth motion, Tyron slipped to the side out of harm's way, allowed the creature to come up right next to him, then lashed out with his foot in a side kick that caught the fiend right on the side of the neck, sending it flying. The predator slammed into a tree about ten or so feet away.  
  
As it slid to the ground, caught off guard, it wandered into a lonely ray of sunlight, and Tyron was able to see it. It was a Mi'ihen Fang, its fur brown tinged with hints of gray. This particular wolf was fairly large, and because of its graying fur, Tyron surmised that it was an older fiend, accustomed to the hunt. It had been caught off guard once, but would not make the same mistake again. As he realized this, Tyron felt his lips pull back into a feral grin, a hunter's grin, much like the one the wolf was wearing. Here was a true challenge. He would have to use all of his skills if he planned on surviving.  
  
Fifteen years ago, Tyron would have never tried to fight a Mi'ihen Fang by himself. Ten years ago, he would have never fought one in an environment so devoid of light. Five years ago, Tyron would have battled one, but only with his trusted sword. Now? The warrior faced his opponent as nature intended.  
  
The wolf slunk out of the light into the shadows, and the two of them began to circle each other, slowly, each looking for an opening. The Fang had the upper hand-this Tyron knew-because it could see in the very dim light, which of course, a human could not. Unable to see the fiend, Tyron listened very carefully to anything he could. His opponent was very skilled, naturally, and didn't make much noise with its footsteps. The only thing Tyron had to go by was the fiend's breathing, which he could barely make out over his own.  
  
And then, he heard an intake of air as the wolf pounced. The elder warrior, rather than dodging as the fiend expected, dashed forward. He met the wolf at the apex of its jump, his shoulder slamming into its soft underbelly. Yelping, the Fang fell back, but recovered quickly. It leapt once more, and this time, Tyron was unprepared. He grimaced as the wolf's sharp claws tore through his shirt into his flesh, slicing through his muscle. With the wolf on top of him, Tyron stumbled over a root and fell onto his back.  
  
Confident that his prey was done for, the hungry animal dove down, his pearl fangs searching for Tyron's neck, to tear his jugular out. But the man wouldn't be killed so easily, and hurriedly stuck his arm in front of his throat, allowing the wolf to chomp on that. The warrior hissed at the pain, but grinned at the same time. This was living.  
  
Tyron then brought his knees up, kneeing the wolf in the stomach. With that, he kicked up, knocking his opponent off of him-although the fiend did manage to tear a chunk of his arm off in the process. And then, as the monster was landing from the kick, Tyron reached forward, grabbed one of its forelegs and twisted sharply. There was a sickening crack and the wolf yelped in pain. Tyron had broken the leg, and now the creature knew it was defeated.  
  
However, it wasn't about to go out without one last try. It sprung, trying once more to tear its enemy's throat out. Tyron, at the last minute, reached out, grabbing it around the muzzle, holding it closed. In the next moment, Tyron forced the fiend's jaws open, grabbed the upper one in his right and the lower in his left, and pulled them sharply in opposite directions.  
  
The Mi'ihen Fang's neck cracked, and with one final yelp, it went limp, dissolving into pyreflies. Tyron sank to one knee, saying some prayers for the fiend's spirit, thanking it for the fight. Then, he turned and walked away, out of the forest, without saying a word.  
  
* * *  
  
It was another fifteen minutes before he reached the small village of Mi'ihen. The famous Lord Mi'ihen, founder of the Crusaders, had built his home there when he had become too old to fight on the battle lines anymore. After time, it had blossomed into a small town, and it bore his name. Because it was located right between the Summoners' Temple at Djose and the fairly large shrine in Luca, the town had a temple that was very small. It was for praying only; there was no fayth there for summoners to obtain. And it was to this very temple that Tyron was headed.  
  
Since it was early morning, the streets of the small town did not have many people on them. The few who were out, however, shot puzzled looks at the man in the black and white Crusaders' uniform who walked down the street, bleeding from several wounds including a large one on his arm. The strangest part was that he didn't even seem to notice his injuries. One kind-hearted fellow had asked the man if he should send for the temple healers, but the man had simply stated that it was not necessary, and walked on.  
  
At long last, the man in black made it to the temple. It was a concrete and stone building, and stood out from the wooden huts that formed the small village of Mi'ihen. Although it was easily the largest structure in the town, it was small as far as temples went. It was a domed structure, barely over one story tall. On either side of the entrance, two marble pillars rose into the air, supporting a stone arch-the only form of ornamentation visible on the outside of the temple, in fact.  
  
Tyron walked up the stairs, beneath the arch, and into the temple. Inside, it was a circular room about forty feet wide. The walls and dome were colored a dark blue, and the floor was tiled in white marble. Several torches lined the walls, giving a crimson overtone to everything. There were two doorways opposite from the entrance, which lead to the rooms for the healers. And all along the wall stood the statues of the revered High Summoners. And Tyron slowly walked to one of these marble heroes-a woman, standing proud and tall-High Summoner Taradine.  
  
Blood dripped from his wounds onto the floor, little crimson raindrops splattering silently along his path, but he paid them no heed. When he reached Taradine's statue, Tyron knelt before her without saying a word, and cupped his hands together in the traditional prayer gesture. The warrior prayed to Yevon silently, asking His blessings, and His guidance on his quests that lay ahead. As Tyron knelt in supplication, he felt his injuries starting to hurt less-whether because of divine blessing or natural pain suppression, he didn't know.  
  
After several minutes of prayer, Tyron looked up at the statue of Taradine. His eyes wandered over the well-polished marble, scrutinizing it. Every detail of her was sculpted exactly the way she looked in real life-her flowing cloak and robe, her long, braided hair, her elaborate feathered headdress, even the scar on her left hand, each was elaborately carved so it was perfect. It looked as if High Summoner Taradine had been frozen in stone, and transported to the temple, so exact was the replica. The sculptors were indeed masters of their craft. Yet no matter how much it looked like Taradine, to Tyron, the statue was nothing like the real woman.  
  
High Summoner Taradine, in the statue, was looking intensely out at some unseen foe, harsh, commanding, ready to do justice in the holy name of Yevon. She was majestic, noble, powerful. it wasn't her. Tyron closed his eyes once more, conjuring up his memories from the dark depths of his mind. In them, he saw Taradine the way he knew her. The way she was.  
  
She would always laugh, always smile. If she were hurt, she'd laugh no matter how much pain she were feeling, and jokingly put herself down. Whenever anyone made a mistake in front of her, she would laugh, and help them so they wouldn't make the mistake again. Even when the pressure of all of Spira was on her shoulders, she'd laugh and smile.  
  
The only times she wasn't laughing was when she was presented with hate. When she had begun her pilgrimage those thirteen long years ago, tensions between the Al Bhed and the Yevonites had been at an all-time high. Taradine and her guardians had witnessed several atrocities on the part of both groups. Yevonites had killed an entire settlement of Al Bhed and forced conversions on the few survivors before her eyes. A group of Al Bhed extremists had practiced some of their 'advanced' medical techniques on a pregnant Yevonite woman-while she was still alive and conscious-by removing her unborn child and slicing it into pieces. Spira had been about to plunge into full-blown war.  
  
Taradine had narrowly averted that war by bringing a Calm. Without the stresses caused by Sin, tensions quickly abated. yet the scars of the Al Bhed Crisis, as it was known, were far-reaching. The area around where Tyron was now staying, all around the Highroad, had been one of the hardest hit during the strife. There were still a number of hate groups in the Mi'ihen territories that preyed on the few Al Bhed who were too stubborn to leave their homes.  
  
Yet even after seeing all of this. Taradine never became wrathful, terribly powerful, as the statue portrayed her. In all of the time he had spent with her, Tyron had never seen her angry once. In the face of all the atrocities, High Summoner Taradine had not screamed, not threatened, not destroyed. she had wept. The Taradine he had known was a person. not some sort of deity.  
  
'The people need to believe that their heroes are who they see them as,' the warrior thought silently to himself. 'They see the summoners as perfect, as idols. and so they re-create them in that image.' Privately, Tyron wondered how the people would have reacted had they known of Taradine's sympathies with the Al Bhed people. Although she disagreed with their use of the forbidden machina, Taradine had always remained friendly with them as a people. She spoke fluent Al Bhed, and visited several settlements of the tribe. Tyron had not picked up a mastery of the language as she had, but he could still speak it fairly well. She had had a natural skill with languages, however. Tyron's talents lay in the blade.  
  
Tyron looked up at Taradine again, studying her face. She looked so much like her niece, especially in the eyes. They both shared the same emerald eyes that could sparkle with laughter one moment yet turn to quiet intensity in the next. They resembled each other so much, in fact, that it was a surprising thing indeed to find that her niece had no talent for summoning. Normally, the trait was hereditary, and more common in females than in males. It was a very curious thing, indeed. If anything, the girl had inherited her uncle's skill with the sword, instead.  
  
Naturally, thinking of the girl's uncle brought his thoughts together again. 'Amono, where are you?' Tyron bleakly prayed, but no answer came. He had prayed to Amono a thousand times, and no answer ever came. However, sometimes Tyron did feel his friend's presence. usually warning him when the monstrous Sin was near. Taradine's brother never showed up in the Farplane, so Tyron assumed he was an unsent. an invisible guardian, for lack of a better way to describe it.  
  
Tyron's thoughts bitterly came full-circle now. 'Amono. I failed you. You wouldn't have died if I had been stronger. you wouldn't have needed to die. Why did you choose to be my guardian spirit? Why choose the one who betrayed you?'  
  
A silent, lone, tear slowly trickled down the elder swordsman's cheek. He cried no more than that, but he didn't move, the wounds in his arm still healing, until the sun finally set. 


	11. Arc Two: 'To Be a Summoner' Interlude Pa...

Interlude (Part Two)  
  
A lone figure stood on a dock several blocks from his house, watching the sun drop below the horizon. Embers of the scarlet sunlight danced in the warm brown eyes of Masa Sutir as he gazed out over the wide, unending waves. Somewhere out there, he knew, was the island of Kilika, where his only child, his beloved daughter, was now training to become a guardian. He wondered if she were watching the same sunset as he was.  
  
For the past week, ever since Neirana and Kecci had left their childhood home of Luca for Kilika, Masa had come out to these docks at sundown. There, he stood, trying vainly to somehow feel his daughter's presence, to see something, anything at all. He worried that the training might be too rigorous for her, that she would be hurt-or worse. The other part of Masa's consciousness was filled with pride. his daughter, his flesh and blood. she would be a hero for all Spira to admire, he knew. She would triumph. And as his pride and his fears fought for dominance of his brain, more often than not he found that his cheeks were damp, and his eyes puffy when he returned home, once the sun had vanished.  
  
And the sun did exactly that, as it did every evening, to rise again in the morning. It was constant, unchanging. As he turned to walk home, Masa sighed heavily. The eternal patterns of the sun, which he had found so soothing in his younger days, now troubled him more than anything. Perhaps this sunset would be his last. Perhaps in the morning, he would be nothing but a group of pyreflies, evaporating into nothingness. Or, perhaps, he would awake to discover that he no longer had a daughter. Everything seemed to be changing around him, far too quickly for his comfort.  
  
As Masa walked through the streets, lights lit up in the windows all around him, lamps burning bright as darkness crept upon the city. He paid them no attention, instead staring at his well-worn leather boots as they trod the cobblestone streets of Spira's second largest city. Masa sighed again. Even his gait, which had been firm and steady in his youth, now wavered. He would stumble on one of the stones paving the streets, or maybe just limp now and then. Nothing was the same anymore.  
  
Masa reached his house in a few minutes, and entered the small kitchen. A week ago, this kitchen had been very cozy. Now, it was just cramped. The aroma of cooked and seasoned fish caught his attention-it seemed dulled to him, though-and he saw the dinner that his wife had prepared on a plate resting on the dark marble countertop that lined the walls of the kitchen. He could hear the sound of running water coming from upstairs and surmised that Mune was taking a shower. Not wanting to trouble her, Masa took the fish that she had made for him, and walked through the dining room, and down the stairs into his smithy.  
  
If there was one thing that DID bring him solace amidst his emotional turmoil, it was his work. The workshop beneath his home, where he practiced his trade as an expert swordsmith, was the same as it always was. It was a stone room, the largest in the house, done in a stark white. Masa set the plate with the fish on an empty spot on a table next to him, and lit the lamps that adorned one of the long walls, and a warm light filled the room.  
  
The stairs leading up were in the northwest corner of the workshop. All along the perimeter of the room were tables made out of hewn rock. While wood would have been less expensive to purchase and easier to install, it would not have been well suited to withstand the furnaces that Masa used to forge his weapons. There were several sconces that were carved to look like flames that contained the oil lamps, which were mounted on the northern wall. This wall was the only one that did not have any countertops or machinery in front of it-all the others were completely packed.  
  
In the center of the room stood another stone table. While the basic forging of the blades was done at the stations around the workshop, the finishing touches were added here. Some weapons spent an hour or two at most at this final station, only needing rudimentary reinforcement or adjustments. Some weapons took longer, such as Neirana's Quicksilver, which had spent a day at the center table as Masa sculpted the hilt and calibrated it perfectly to his daughter's fighting style.  
  
The blade that was currently at the center table, however, had easily set the record for longest time at the final station. This weapon, which Masa had agreed to forge for a friend, to repay a very deep debt, had remained at the center table for almost sixteen years. As he had forged other swords, other weapons, this particular sword had been moved to the side, but he had always worked on it whenever he could. The actual forging of the sword had taken five years-another record-as Masa attempted to find the perfect balance, the perfect materials. He had gone to all the mages and priests in the area for help, for charms, for enchantments to adorn this blade. Once the weapon had finally been shaped and had come to the lonely center table, the charms had to be perfected. The blade had to be razor- sharp, the hilt firm yet comfortable, the balance completely even. Even after sixteen long years, the weapon was not complete-although it was nearly so.  
  
Masa reached out and softly stroked the hilt. It was made of sculpted iron, and made in the shape of the head of a horned dragon breathing fire. Yet the fingers of the wielder would never feel the cold, slippery, iron base. A particularly brilliant priest of Yevon, who knew something of craftsmanship, had created a material that was so amazing that it had to have been enchanted. The fabric was sturdy, yet so thin and pliable it could be grafted to the intricate sculptings of the hilt as if it were part of the iron itself. It was warm to the touch, and was very smooth, yet seemed coarse; for it would hold a person's grip better than almost anything else Masa had ever come across.  
  
The swordsmith tightened his hand around the base of the sword, and marveled at what was probably the material's most helpful property, and most unbelievable. Masa had sculpted the grooves and ridges of the dragon hilt to provide a very natural grip for the person the blade had been made for. The hilt had been tailored to the size and shape of his hand, which was much different from Masa's own. Yet as he squeezed harder on the grip, lifting the sword into the air, the substance seemed to mold the very solid iron, changing it, to fit his hand very comfortably. However, once Masa released his grip on the weapon, the hilt appeared to be exactly the way it had been shaped. The priest had given him the enchanted fabric almost ten years ago, and Masa still didn't understand how it worked. but it did, and that was what mattered.  
  
Crimson light flickered off of the blade, as Masa lifted it into the air. The blade itself had been created from an alloy that he had created himself. As far as Masa knew, the alloy had been previously unknown to all of Spira-and still was. Despite his generous, giving, nature, Neirana's father jealously kept all of his trade secrets to himself. which explained his success. The alloy that he had created was very, very, very hard. He had had to enlist the help of a local mage to enchant the metal just to make it shapeable. The weapons that came out of Masa Sutir's workshop were known for their hardiness and ability to withstand wear and tear, due to their structure and his closely guarded forging processes. It was a well- known saying that the only thing which could break a Masa Sutir blade was another Masa Sutir blade. Although the saying was not ENTIRELY true-after all, no weapon is completely indestructible-it was one that Masa and his friends had gladly propagated. However, this particular weapon was easily the strongest to be made in his workshop furnaces, hands down.  
  
Yet despite the alloy's toughness, it was also incredibly light. As the tall, lanky swordsmith swung the sword through the air in basic fencing maneuvers, he found himself surprised, as he always was, at the weight of the sword. If he hadn't forged the weapon himself, Masa would have been inclined to say that the weapon was hollow.  
  
The glow from the lamps caught the intricate designs and runes that had been carved into the blade-again, with the mage's help, because of the hardness of the metal. The grooves on the weapon were shaped like flames, the flames that the dragon hilt was spewing. The sword itself was very large, nearly six feet long, and curved backward, a massive katana. For the most part, the blade was gleaming silver, the natural color of the alloy. However, where the sword began to taper to the cutting edge, it changed color, becoming jet-black. It was because of this color change that Mune and Neirana referred to it as the Blacksword, yet that name did not suit Masa. Ever since the blade had rested on that center table, Masa had been trying to think of a suitable name for this weapon, his finest work. Yet no name seemed to fit. He had briefly toyed with the idea of 'Ultima Weapon' but eventually dismissed it as too hokey. That name just sounded arrogant. Masa had considered names like 'Avenger' or 'Nightslayer' or 'Nemesis', but none seemed right. And so the blade remained nameless.  
  
The tall man once more laid the blade to rest on the center table, pulled over a stool, and began to tinker on it. The blade itself was enchanted. designed to help the wielder in battle, of course. Yet the enchantments sometimes seemed to interfere with the perfect balance of the sword, and so Masa was determined to rectify the situation.  
  
Several hours passed, and the fish lay on the table near the doorway, now cold and forgotten. The only sounds in the stone workshop were the gentle sounds of Masa breathing, and the occasional clink of metal hitting metal as he worked. Before long, however, the semi-silence was interrupted by the sound of voices coming from upstairs. Blinking, Masa sat up straight, listening. One of the voices was undoubtedly that of his wife. but he didn't recognize the other voice, which was lightly accented. Where the accent was from, Masa couldn't tell.  
  
The conversation ended, and the swordsmith heard footsteps from above him, walking through the kitchen, through the dining room, and to the entrance to his workshop. "Masa," his wife called down to him. "There is a man here who says that he wishes to commission a weapon. Could you please come up and talk to him?"  
  
Stretching, Masa slid the stool away, put his tools down and pushed his masterpiece aside. He turned and walked towards the stairway. As he caught sight of the uneaten plate of fish, his stomach rumbled, but he paid it no heed, and continued upstairs. At the top of the stairs, his wife smiled at him, yet there was something else in her eyes. Masa made a mental note to ask her about it later. He took Mune in his arms and kissed her, fibbed about enjoying the fish she had prepared, and then turned to see a man in his doorway.  
  
The man was tall, and quite muscular, almost as if he were a professional athlete. He was wearing a long, dark, cloak with the hood up, obscuring his face in shadow. The cloak covered almost everything about the man, except the double-strapped sandals that he wore on his feet. Masa immediately felt distrust toward the stranger. It was his personal inclination not to trust anyone who concealed so much about themselves.  
  
Stepping forward, the stranger reached up and pulled his hood down, revealing his head. Masa blinked, for it seemed that the man's head was on fire, but then realized it was just a shock of bright red hair. As soon as he saw the stranger's hair, Masa placed his accent. Red hair was extremely rare among denizens of Spira, and was chiefly found only in one location: the Calm Lands. The people who lived there, who called themselves the Nagijin, were descended from intermarriage between some Al Bhed tribes and some people who had ancestral roots in Zanarkand. That unique genetic combination produced fiery red hair. Because of their distant relationship to the Al Bhed, some of Yevon's people mistrusted the Nagijin, however, Masa was not one of them. In fact, his wife Mune was of Nagijin descent, as could be seen in the color of her hair, which was also red in tint.  
  
"You don't see many Nagijin in Luca," Masa said, extending his hand to the stranger. "What brings you so far south?"  
  
The stranger took it and shook it, smiling at him. "You are very observant, Master Sutir. although I do suppose my hair rather gives my lineage away. My name is Loye. I have traveled here on business, but my ultimate destination is actually the island of Kilika." At the mention of Kilika, Masa's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. "However, as your lovely wife has mentioned, this is not simply a social call to make new acquaintances. I am here to commission a weapon."  
  
Nodding, Masa stroked the stubble on his chin. "Really. What sort of sword do you want, Mr. Loye?"  
  
Loye chuckled, and held his hands up in protest. "No, just 'Loye' will do. and I do not exactly want a sword. I realize that they are your forte, but I also know that you make other sorts of weapons. axes, knives, bladed weapons in general." With that, Loye reached into his cloak and withdrew a parchment, rolled up into a tube. He handed it over to Masa, who unrolled it and began to examine it. "Those are the plans that I have drawn up for this particular weapon. unfortunately, I have no skill in the making of such a weapon, so I thought to come to the most famed swordsmith in Spira."  
  
The paper contained several diagrams, all of one thing: a deadly looking, wrist-mounted, steel claw. Masa immediately recognized it as a basic Nagijin design, but there were several modifications. "What are these tubes in the claws for?" He asked, as the weapon took shape in his mind.  
  
Taking a look at the paper, Loye nodded. "I have been experimenting on fiends. developing a sort of antidote that will calm their spirits, allowing them to travel to the Farplane once more. However, the antidote must be administered within the body. a syringe would work, but you would need a weapon to defend yourself from the fiend's attacks. Ergo, this design. it functions as a weapon, but the antidote is stored in these fluid chambers here. a simple wrist movement releases the fluid from the chambers, through the tubes in the claw blades, and out through holes at the tip." He beamed at Masa. "But the basic design is based off of the traditional one my clan has used for centuries. what do you think?"  
  
Impressed by Loye's grasp of mechanics, Masa rolled the paper up again. "Quite ingenious, I must admit. how much are you willing to pay?"  
  
"Twenty thousand Gil."  
  
This sum stunned both Masa and Mune, who were expecting something nearly half that. Not wanting to waste such an opportunity, Masa quickly accepted. "Oh, I think that'd be acceptable. when do you think you'll want this done by?"  
  
Loye smiled at Masa again. "I have business on Kilika, and I expect to return in three months. could you have it done by then?"  
  
Closing his eyes, Masa began to work out the dynamics in his head. he didn't have any other commissions as of yet, three months would be more than enough time. "That's definitely workable. You'll be able to pick it up then."  
  
Chuckling, Loye nodded. "Very well then. and now, it's getting late, I must leave. It has been very pleasurable doing business with you, Mr. Sutir! Farewell!" With that, Loye pulled his hood up again, bowed to them, and walked out the door into the Luca night.  
  
"He's a very strange fellow." Mune whispered, coming up behind Masa, and slipping her arm around his waist. "Very peculiar indeed."  
  
Masa did not answer, as he was deep in thought examining the diagrams once more. and then he saw something that caught his eye, at the top. The man named Loye had already named this claw, and for some reason, the title made him shudder.  
  
'Requiem.' 


	12. Arc Two: 'To Be a Summoner' Interlude Pa...

Interlude (Part Three)  
  
There was something about the dull pain in his legs that heightened Tyron Sul's senses. He felt every bead of sweat trickling down his brow, heard each individual cry of the seagulls circling high above, saw the ephemeral rainbows in the crystalline spray of the waves as they broke on the jagged stone beneath his feet. The sharp rocks glistened in the sunlight, looking utterly merciless and deadly-and they were-yet Tyron walked at a normal pace, stepping from stone to stone as if it were no more dangerous than a paved city street. While others, if they chanced to see him treading that perilous bridge, would think him a madman, he knew better. He had walked these same rocks many times as a child, and though his stride might be longer, his body older, the path was the same.  
  
* * *  
  
A lone island stood about a mile or so off the coast along the Mi'ihen Highroad, seemingly inaccessible. Even a skilled and experienced swimmer would have thought twice before swimming a mile in the fairly rough, shallow, rocky-bottomed waters off Mi'ihen. Those same waters were also quite perilous for boats to traverse, effectively cutting off all travel. And so, the island had become 'off-limits' in the mind of the local residents.  
  
However, when the tide receded, the seas uncovered a natural bridge connecting the island to the mainland. Those few who did know about it had deemed it unsafe. The rocks could slice an unlucky traveler to pieces, and if you were unfortunate to be caught on the land bridge when the waters rose. the stories weren't very pretty. To walk the stone bridge was suicide, and the deed of a fool.  
  
Common knowledge, however, is not always fact. Tyron, as a child, had challenged the path, and had succeeded. He had been cut and bruised and scraped, but he had made it across. The island, cut off from the outside, had been his sanctuary, his fortress, and his haven. More importantly, it had become Tyron's home.  
  
Tyron had never known his parents. He had been raised in a small temple of Yevon outside Luca, a temple that had since fallen into disrepair. The priests had never told him anything of his parents, save that they had been killed by Sin. And, although the servants of Yevon had been kind and wise and caring to him, Tyron had always felt the need to roam. And so, when he was barely eight years old, he had packed up what few belongings he had, and ran away in the dead of the night.  
  
Immediately, he knew it was a mistake. Yet something, an irresistible wanderlust, kept him from returning back to the temple. Tyron hadn't slept that first night, terrified that he would become a meal for a hungry fiend. And, through the protection of Yevon-or perhaps maybe sheer luck-he had survived. The next day, Tyron's salvation came in the form of a merchant, who had been returning from Luca with a wagon full of wares.  
  
The merchant's son, an energetic boy who was twelve years in age, had spotted Tyron on the side of the road where he had collapsed from exhaustion. The kind-hearted merchant had taken the boy to his small house by the side of the Highroad, and the young Tyron became an unofficial member of the family.  
  
However, the merchant and his wife saw Tyron's need to wander from the very beginning. Not wanting to keep the young boy chained down, but unwilling to risk his safety all the same, the friendly merchant had made sure that his own son accompanied Tyron wherever he went. Even at the young age of twelve, his son was already showing remarkable talent with a sword.  
  
And thus begun the friendship between Tyron and the merchant's son, Amono. The two of them immediately bonded, and would have been inseparable even if Amono's father had not ordered it. Tyron idolized the older boy, and aspired to become his mirror image. The merchant had given the younger boy a fine carved wooden sword, a katana, and the two friends were frequent sparring partners. Despite his youth, Tyron displayed impressive talent with a blade as did Amono, yet the elder boy always ended up the victor in their friendly duels.  
  
Amono's mother, naturally, disapproved of the fights-it was she who had to dress the scrapes and bruises, of course-and forbade them to occur. Naturally, that didn't stop the two boys from carrying on behind her back. but they were unable to go all out on each other for fear of being discovered. The two friends longed for a remote area where they could push the other to the limit, yet there was no suitable place nearby.  
  
The solution had been discovered by Amono's sister, Taradine. She was thirteen, the second oldest child in the family-Amono's oldest brother, a young man of fifteen, kept to himself mostly, studying metals and the craft of smithery-and, while she was not as physically skilled as her younger brother, was incredibly smart. And for every ounce of intelligence she possessed, she paired it with a gallon of beauty and kindness. Although Tyron's best friend was Amono, Taradine haunted his dreams for many years. It was Taradine who had first noticed the land bridge at low tide, and it had been she who had come up with the idea that they could cross it.  
  
And so, three children dared to do what many adults would never consider doing. And the island was theirs.  
  
* * *  
  
A feral grin found its way onto Tyron's face as he pressed his attack, swinging furiously at his older opponent. The wooden katana whistled through the air on a direct arc for Amono's neck before the other boy's sword came up in a parry, knocking it harmlessly to the side. In that moment, Tyron's attack was broken and he quickly found himself on the defensive.  
  
Amono laughed, his dark eyes sparkling. "Come on, Tyron, faster! What sort of defense is that? You're leaving yourself wide open!" To punctuate his words, Amono leapt forward, batted Tyron's blade away, and jabbed the younger boy in the side with his own weapon.  
  
Yelping, Tyron fell back, hands reflexively going to cover the injured skin. His katana fell to the ground, landing in the sand with a quiet puff. A second later, Tyron joined it, still tenderly cradling his side. "That wasn't fair," he began, but he was cut off.  
  
"Well, it looked fair to me." Taradine said from above them, idly playing with her long, braided hair. She was sitting on a rock that overlooked the beach where the two boys were sparring. It was early afternoon, and the sun was beating down on the trio with all of its power, yet they paid it no heed. "And by my count, that makes the score seven to four in favor of Amono."  
  
The older boy leaned down and helped Tyron to his feet, and brushed some sand off of his back. "You're getting quicker, Tyron, but you still you always just concentrate on one thing to block-which you always succeed in blocking, of course-but you lose awareness of everything around you."  
  
Tyron sighed, as he leaned down to pick up his sword. "It wasn't fair," he repeated, pushing his long black hair off of his face. "You came in with a slash, you usually use a thrust there. I wasn't ready for a slash."  
  
Above the two boys, Taradine giggled. "Well yeah, I think that's the point. Fiends won't use set attack patterns against you, so you have to be careful."  
  
Amono nodded, with a lopsided grin on his face. "You'll never be a guardian if you keep on making those same mistakes."  
  
At those words, Tyron's brow furrowed. "Wait, what do you mean 'be a guardian?'" he asked warily, looking from Amono to Taradine and back again.  
  
For a brief second, something like guilt flashed over Amono's face, but then it was gone. "Nothing, Tyron. Just if you ever decide to be a guardian or a Crusader or something, that's all." He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable. Tyron was about to press the question when Amono sunk back into a fighting stance. "Go again?"  
  
Tyron could never resist a challenge, especially not one from Amono. Searching for purchase in the sandy beach, he closed his eyes, and jumped forward.  
  
.metal met metal with a loud clash. Tyron, now a young man of fourteen, sliced upwards in a disemboweling strike, but the strike was blocked by Amono's blade. The two disengaged their weapons for a brief instant before Amono pressed the assault, driving Tyron back along the waterfront.  
  
The older man, a powerfully built eighteen-year-old, spun and slashed across with his flavus-a forward-curving sword designed to break armor and shields-in a blow that would have taken Tyron's head off had the youth not ducked under it. Seeing an opening, Tyron leapt forward, driving his shoulder into Amono's stomach in a powerful tackle. The two fell to the ground, then rolled to their feet before resuming the duel.  
  
Amono knocked the younger boy's sword away before leaning down, and bringing his right leg around in a sweep kick that knocked Tyron's legs out from beneath him. His long, dark hair spilling out behind him, Tyron fell, but somersaulted back to his feet as a slash split the sand apart where his head had been a moment before. He threw his weight forward, twirling around with an overhead blow, hacking down at Amono.  
  
Stunned by the ferocity of Tyron's attacks, Amono stepped backwards, slowly being driven towards a grove of plants, large palm trees that grew by the island's shore. He blocked a low cut, then feinted towards Tyron's neck before slashing upwards, but that blow was parried and the younger man continued to press his advantage.  
  
The two opponents had entered the grove now, a small patch of green against the white sand. The grove consisted of several dozen trees bordering a small pool of sapphire water, barely fifteen feet wide, yet fairly deep. It made an excellent swimming hole, as the two had discovered with Taradine many years before. Tyron grinned as he forced Amono back, leading him to the water. Amono kept parrying his blows, but bumped up into a palm tree, sending him off balance. At that moment, Tyron played his key card.  
  
There was a flash of white light, and Tyron seemed to vanish. There was a sound of metal whistling through the air, and he reappeared behind his friend, sword held horizontal, as if just finishing a mighty cut. Smirking, he turned around.  
  
Amono looked stunned, and then turned to grin at the younger man, as a trickle of scarlet fluid leaked from his left cheek. He reached up to touch it, looked with curiosity at his red fingers, and then looked up at Tyron, eyebrow raised. "That was a new technique," he said nonchalantly, as the palm tree next to him fell in two, neatly bisected. "Never seen that one before."  
  
"Could've taken your head off with it, if I wanted," Tyron bragged, beaming at Amono's approval. "But, you know, I considered that kind of overkill for a friendly spar."  
  
Nodding, Amono raised his sword. "But you've made one key error, my friend." he grinned. "You're now the one with his back to the water."  
  
Tyron swore to himself, looked back at the water, and then leapt forward in a mighty blow. The older combatant easily blocked it, and Tyron's katana slid into the curved part of the blade. For a brief moment, their eyes met, and Amono smirked. In the next instant, he had twisted his wrist, sending Tyron's sword flying up into the air, and spinning the younger man off balance. Amono laughed, and shoved forward, pushing Tyron into the water.  
  
The katana came spiraling down, and Amono snatched it in midair. Laughing, he looked down at Tyron as the young teen came sputtering up for air. "That move always works, you know. Surprised you haven't came up with a counter for it yet. Only been using it for, oh, five years." As he said this, he went down to the edge of the natural pool, and extended a hand to the younger boy, pulling him from the water.  
  
"It's not like I can just wave my hand and come up with a counter, you know," Tyron countered. "Plus, I could've had you with that move before." Squeezing water from his long, black, hair, he shook his head. "Really need to take Tara up on her offer to braid this one day."  
  
Amono agreed. "I do have a question about that move, though. when did you come up with a technique like that?" He indicated the neatly sliced tree with a nod of his head. "Never seen you working on it before."  
  
"Oh, I've been working on it here and there." Tyron dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. "But I wish that Tara could've seen it." Taradine had been spending less and less time with her brother and his friend on the island, and had mostly been studying in the temple as of late.  
  
A flash of sorrow swept across Amono's face, and he closed his dark eyes. "Listen, Tyron. there's something I need to tell you." His voice trailed off at that, and Tyron immediately felt a sense of worry. He started to speak, but Amono held up a hand, and gave him back his katana. "Tyron, walk with me. Just. walk."  
  
* * *  
  
Tyron stepped across the beach, shirtless, holding his katana in a ready stance. His hair, in the long, bound ponytail he always wore, gently waved in the sea breeze behind him. He looped his sword in joined infinity loops, before bringing it up in a crescent cut. Whispering incantations to himself, Tyron kept stepping closer and closer to the water, until he was wading in it knee deep.  
  
As he did so, his blade seemed to glow with an inner light. then, Tyron's eyes flashed open, and he stabbed viciously downward into the water, spearing a fish cleanly on the end. The sea creature flopped helplessly, impaled on the blade, before finally going limp. Tyron walked out of the water again, to a small campfire that was burning on the island near the border of the beach. He leaned down, transferred the fish onto a nearby stick, and began roasting the creature for his evening meal.  
  
The sun was sinking below the horizon, but the fire provided ample light nonetheless. Tyron stretched, the fish still cooking in the flames, feeling delicious pain in his body. His entire chest was scarred, as were his arms- including the recent wound from the wolf-from numerous battles. One particular injury ran from the base of his neck, all the way down around his shoulder to his back, where it culminated in a nasty mound of scar tissue.  
  
That particular wound was one he knew well, and one that had irreparably changed his life. Amono, unbidden, came into his thoughts, as did the smiling face of Taradine. he had failed them, of course. Tyron looked straight into the fire, and saw the smiling face of a young woman, with sparkling green eyes and sun-bleached hair. Maybe he could still fulfill his promise after all.  
  
* * *  
  
Somewhere along the Mi'ihen Highroad, a girl ran, panting for breath. She hid in the underbrush, listening fearfully. The sound of shouts from barely half a mile away, the angry shouts of a mob, confirmed her fears, and she took off running again. She resumed running, sprinting down the path to the shoreline, when she stopped in her tracks. There was a stone path in the water, leading all the way to an island off the shore. Far off, in the distance, she could see a fire lit on the beach. That meant the land bridge, as jagged and dangerous as it looked, had to be crossable. the shouts were nearer, now. Terror flashed in her green-swirled eyes as she dashed forward, onto the perilous way. It would be her only chance. 


	13. Arc Two: 'To Be a Summoner' Interlude Pa...

Interlude (Part Four)  
  
Embers from the dying fire glinted in Tyron Sul's silver eyes. The sun had long ago disappeared below the gently curving horizon, and the moon was about a quarter of the way through its nightly arc. He remained sitting on an old piece of driftwood that had washed up on the sandy shore, staring into the flames, completely still.  
  
Tyron's gaze fixed on one particular piece of wood, leaning near the center. Flecks of orange lapped over it, and he could see the glowing warmth within, eating the wood away from within.  
  
As Tyron watched, the firewood began to sag, to bend. and then, unable to hold out any longer, the branch cracked in two, and the fire collapsed further in on itself. As it did so, dozens of sparks wafted into the air, miniature stars in the darkness. He watched one float up, higher and higher, until it winked out in the night sky.  
  
Sighing, the warrior stood up, getting off of the piece of driftwood and stretching muscles that protested after hours of stillness. Without further ado, he lay down on the sand, finding comfort in the way it adapted to the shape of his body. the fire, behind him, burned out.  
  
That night, the dreams came to him again.  
  
* * *  
  
Chenna Venamekrd stifled a yelp as a rock she had been using as a handhold broke. She flattened herself against the cliff, clinging to it with all of her strength, and closed her eyes tightly. A fall onto the rocks below, even from only ten or so feet up, would probably cause serious injuries.  
  
Her heart thudded in her ears as she looked up at the top of the bluff. Maybe they had missed her. maybe they wouldn't find her. A chorus of angry yells from above on the Mi'ihen Highroad, however, dashed her hopes. For what seemed like the hundredth time, Chenna fervently wished she could understand the Yevonites' language better.  
  
Biting her lip, she looked down at the cliff below her, silver-white in the moonlight. Chenna saw what appeared to be a crack in the rock, and gingerly slipped her foot inside. It held her weight, and she resumed her climb. Trying not to think about either the jagged rocks below her or the angry mob above, she made her way to the base of the cliff.  
  
The land bridge she had seen from up on top of the bluff hadn't been just a trick of the light, thankfully. Without pausing to think about it, Chenna sprinted out onto the rocks.  
  
She immediately regretted the decision. Chenna had gone no more than ten steps when her booted foot caught on a protruding shard. Her knees hit the ground first, and agonies shot up her spine as a stone knife sliced through her wetsuit and into her shin, cutting a shallow, yet painful gash.  
  
Tears streamed from the corners of her green-swirled eyes, and the Al Bhed girl fought the urge to scream out loud at the pain. Chenna scrambled to her feet, and nearly collapsed again after putting weight on her injured leg. She managed to stay upright, though, and limped onwards, being much more careful than before.  
  
A stiff breeze blew, whipping her blonde hair across her face, spraying her with seawater. Although every step was agony, Chenna forced her legs to move onward. The shouts were louder now, and she turned. There were about ten or so flames up on the cliff, casting flickering golden light over the stone wall.  
  
For a moment, the girl paused. They wouldn't dare follow her down the cliff, would they? Especially not carrying torches like that. she breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the flames sink below the cliffline, out of sight. They were leaving.  
  
Then her heart caught in her throat as the first torch appeared down on the beach, off to the side from where she had climbed down. The second one followed, and then a third. Chenna turned and staggered onward. There must have been another, safer path down. She had been stupid, stupid, stupid! And now they were going to catch her.  
  
The rocks below her suddenly gave way to smooth, cool, sand, and she fell forward, landing with a soft puff. It was so cool. the throbbing agony in her shin seemed to ebb, to vanish. she could just go to sleep, and everything would be okay. Darkness crept into the corners of her vision. then the body of the little Al Bhed boy, mutilated and hanging from a tree, came into her minds eye, and Chenna pushed herself to her knees. If the mob caught her, they wouldn't show her any mercy.  
  
A wave of fury washed over her, seething hatred. These Yevonites hated her. She had committed no crime other than being born Al Bhed, yet they would murder her. They had murdered her father during the Al Bhed Crisis, hadn't they? And her mother shortly afterwards. even though she had been one of them. Lina Swiftin had been the daughter of a priest, yet had found love with an Al Bhed man. Her own people had shunned her, and had murdered her. Nothing mattered to those bloodthirsty pycdyntc. the little boy they had killed before going after Chenna had only been about seven or so. She was only twelve herself, and they were going to kill her too.  
  
If the mob caught Chenna, they wouldn't show her any mercy. She was determined not to show them any either. Chenna reached down to her side and pulled out the slugthrower hanging from her belt. Her brother had given her this. she hadn't wanted it, but Nulgo had insisted. "To kill those vermin," he had said.  
  
No mercy. That's what Nulgo and Ryda had said. No mercy.  
  
Six of the torches were now crossing the land bridge; the other four were remaining behind. Chenna knew they were coming to kill her. They wouldn't spare her life.  
  
Chenna checked the machina weapon, made sure it was functioning, then pulled the firing lever back. It locked into place with a snap, and the slugthrower seemed to jump in her hands.  
  
There was no one on this island, she knew. No one to help her-and even if there were, why would they help an Al Bhed? She was alone.  
  
No mercy. Chenna turned and limped into the thick forest in the middle of the island. She sat down on a rock behind a tree, and watched the onward march of the flames, and waited.  
  
* * *  
  
Griff Moano held his torch high, illuminating the rocky land bridge on which he was walking. A predatorial grin made its way onto his unshaven, sunburned face as he clearly saw drops of blood on the stone, traveling onto the sand in front of him, and into the forest. "I suppose we should thank the little bitch, huh?" he growled, tightening his grip on the crude stone club he was carrying. "She left us a little trail for us to follow. Damn considerate for one of those Yevon-forsaken heathens." Snickering, Griff looked around at his compatriots to gauge their reactions to his joke.  
  
Most of them chuckled, with the exception of Luther. Luther Ansr was a skinny, sunken-cheeked man with jaundiced skin and an overhanging brow. He was known for being not only one of the most pious men in all of Spira, but he was reckoned as one of the fastest warriors as well (at least in this area, of course). Luther had no torch like the rest of them, but instead wielded a deadly-looking scimitar, which glistened with more than sea- spray. The poisoned blade of Luther Ansr was said to be the terror that crept up on those savages, those heathens, while they slept. The only thing that mattered to Luther was cleaning Spira of those who defiled it, those who used the forbidden machina. While Griff and his buddies saw this as fun- both having a good time and ridding Mi'ihen of some vermin-Luther believed it to be a sacred crusade. It was widely known that he had been a member of the Saviors, a secret organization during the Al Bhed Crisis. and rumors about the Saviors ranged from the obscene to the merely terrible.  
  
The look of pure venom on Luther's cragged, sallow features would have sent shivers down a normal man's spine, but Moano was no craven Al Bhed. he was a brave, hardy, faithful Yevonite. "C'mon, guys, let's get that little bitch!" cried Dayrid, one of Griff's many drinking partners, smashing the butt of the stone spike he carried against the rocks. None of them noticed the small splashing sound it made as the waters slowly rose with the tide.  
  
Laughing, Griff swaggered off the land bridge, following the trail of dried blood. "Hey, you stupid little bitch!" he called out. "You can't hide from us forever! We're gonna find you, and you know what we're gonna do then?" Griff looked back at his buddies and guffawed before turning back. "We're gonna tie you-"  
  
He didn't get to finish the threat. A sharp crack echoed through the air, accompanying a flash of light from inside the forest, and blood splashed into the air. Griff screamed as he fell backwards, clutching his shoulder while moaning in agony.  
  
"She's using a machina weapon." whispered Dayrid, running over to his fallen friend and trying to help stop the bloodflow. "The little." He ducked reflexively as another shot rang out, kicking up a puff of sand a few feet to the left of him.  
  
In the starlight, Dayrid could see Luther steadily walking forward, the other three Yevonites following, clearly torn between fear and rage. "Stay here." whispered the ex-Savior, in a voice that brought to mind nothing so much as the sharpening of an executioner's axe. "Make sure the animal doesn't escape. She dies here."  
  
* * *  
  
Chenna whimpered silently, trying to reload the slugthrower with violently trembling hands. She had shot someone. She had actually shot a man. Oh, sure, Chenna had practiced with the slugthrower countless times. but she had never actually shot someone.  
  
She had been aiming for the face, but her trembling arms had thrown her aim off. And now the man with the wicked-looking sword was coming for her. the young Al Bhed girl clicked the firing lever back and pulled the trigger. The slugthrower's handcarved barrel jerked back, the recoil nearly knocking her down. The slug splashed into the water besides the land bridge-she was way off.  
  
Now, the bad man was a mere twenty feet away. Chenna gave in to her natural instinct, and ran. Vines and branches lashed at her face, at her body, at her injured leg, all trying to drag her down, but the girl kept on running, kept pushing herself farther. Her nerve, her conviction to show them no quarter had been dashed, and was now replaced with pure survival instinct.  
  
Finally, a low-lying root on the path caught her ankle, and she tripped violently, feeling something snap in the bone. It didn't hurt like the way a broken bone should hurt, she thought, but her foot refused to support weight, and Chenna crawled into the thick underbrush, shaking violently and trying not to vomit.  
  
'Get a hold of yourself, Chenna!' she scolded herself, trying to get a grip on reality. Chenna took several deep breaths, attempting to recollect her wits, and then crouched behind a tree and beneath a bush, hoping she was well-concealed. She popped the side of the slugthrower open, and drained her six remaining bullets into the magazine. If she were to survive, she couldn't spend time reloading.  
  
No sooner had she clicked the firing lever into place than the flickering hellfire of a parade of torches began to cast dancing shadows over the surrounding forest. Slowly, inexorably, the three Yevonite torches came toward her. Chenna held her breath as the first torch-bearer passed her, a wooden club in his hands. The second Yevonite was carrying a spool of rope- the Al Bhed shivered in a mix of terror and fury, remembering the little boy hanging from the tree. The final torch-bearer was carrying a large carpenter's hammer, and he was looking around for their prey. None of them thought to look down, and so none of them noticed Chenna.  
  
The girl exhaled in relief, before remembering the fourth man, the wicked- looking one. Her worst fears were confirmed a moment later as the curved blade sliced through the tree above her head, and the man looked down at her. "Well, well, well." he hissed. "Looks like the little vermin got into the woodwork."  
  
Chenna sprang backwards as the scimitar slashed into the ground where she had been. She scuttled away from the swordsman, trying desperately to put some distance between her and the madman, when she found herself hitting a meaty wall. "Hey, Luther!" the Yevonite called out, grabbing her around the neck with his arm in a chokehold. "I got her!"  
  
The swordsman who was called Luther slowly strode forward, the torchlight glinting from eyes like the fires of a demon. Her cries muffled from the suffocating pressure of the Yevonite's arm against her throat and mouth, Chenna struggled wildly, terror in her eyes. Luther was only a step or so away when the little Al Bhed managed to open her mouth wide enough to bite down on the meat of her captor's arm, tearing into it with the sort of strength that can only be brought on by an adrenaline rush.  
  
Her captor yowled in pain, and Chenna stomped down hard on his foot, loosening his grip. In the same motion, she pivoted on her hips, driving her elbow hard into the Yevonite's groin area. He let go, howling, as the girl tore a chunk of his arm away, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth. "Sintanan!" she cried, spitting his flesh from her mouth.  
  
The pain in her legs being ignored for the time being, Chenna leapt to the side and pulled the trigger, hitting the already-wounded Yevonite square in the thigh. He collapsed in a quivering heap of pain.  
  
She had no time to either revel in her escape or feel pity for the wounded man, however. Luther kept on stalking closer, in his silent, unstoppable manner. "That wasn't very nice, little rodent." he smiled a shark's smile. "I think it's time to teach you a lesson."  
  
In the blink of an eye, Luther was several strides closer to her, and his blade arced out in a nearly invisible motion. For a moment, Chenna thought he had missed, but then a thin red line appeared across her belly, and an incredible fiery sensation in her abdomen dropped her to her knees. The thin, shallow, slice he had delivered shouldn't be hurting this much. Chenna screamed in agony, trying to scramble away while clutching her burning stomach.  
  
Chenna's vision began to blur, and she waved the slugthrower around wildly in her delirium, brandishing it to ward off whoever was around her. a spark of flame from a torch caught her eye, and she opened fire. There was no scream of pain-she must have missed the man carrying the torch-but the flame spun into the air and landed on the ground, igniting a thick patch of underbrush. The fire began to spread, hazy smoke filling the air.  
  
Whatever vile poison it was that was afflicting her, the world swam, and the young Al Bhed girl collapsed on her back. A distant shadow loomed over her, a large, bulky shadow wielding a heavy-looking hammer. and Chenna knew, with the clarity of death, that she was going to die. Chenna screamed, kept screaming, started twitching. the hammer began its descent to crash down on her forehead.  
  
Without warning, the carpentry tool was knocked from the man's hands, and whirled away. Before succumbing to the haze, Chenna saw a man who seemed to be made of shadows, the light from the fire sparking in his silver eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
"I won't let you do it!" Tyron shouted, angry tears filling his eyes. "Tara. you can't go become a summoner, you can't!" he yelled, glaring accusingly at the young woman who looked at him with an expression that was partly guilty and partly heartbroken. Taradine seemed to be leaning on her staff for support; the argument had been going on for hours, and it had emotionally drained her.  
  
Amono stepped between his best friend and his sister, trying to calm the younger boy down. "Tyron, listen to me." his voice was calm, yet insistent. "Taradine's made her choice. who are you to begrudge her that? She has the same right to choose her path that you do. She will be a summoner. and I'm going to be her guardian." The young man put a comforting hand on his closest friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tyron. but this is how it's going to be."  
  
Defeated, the long-haired boy sunk to his knees, fighting the flood of tears that threatened to overwhelm him. "If you're going to do that." he whispered. "Then I'm coming with you."  
  
The summoner-to-be looked down at him, crouching to his level, staring at him with those soulful eyes that read him all at once, like a book with only one page. "Excuse me, Tyron?" Taradine said. "I thought I heard you say you." their eyes met, and she shook her head, biting her lip worriedly. "No, Tyron. you can't do it. Amono and I have accepted that our fate will take us on a dangerous path. we don't want to drag you down with us."  
  
"I said I'm coming with you!" tears were streaming down Tyron's cheeks now. "I won't let you leave me!" His voice broke as he clutched the sand of this haven, of this place he knew as a home. "I won't let you. I'm going to be your guardian."  
  
There was a loud crack, a bang. The storm outside was raging. Tyron was sixteen now, and had been training to be a guardian, despite the misgivings of Taradine and Amono. they were going to leave tomorrow. Taradine had spent all the day in the Djose temple, praying to the fayth to grant her leave to become a summoner. She had succeeded.  
  
Tyron had lived as a member of Amono's family for half his life now. tomorrow, he would leave it forever. It frightened him.  
  
Outside, another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. An accompanying sharp crack echoed a moment later. The tempest outside raged, mirroring the storm within the young man. He idly stroked the end of his long, braided hair-a habit he had unconsciously picked up from Taradine-as sheets of water poured down the window.  
  
"This seat taken?" Tyron turned to see the oldest brother in the family, Masa. He didn't socialize much, being completely taken with being a swordsmith. With all the studying he had put into it, Tyron was sure he would one day be the greatest weapon-maker in all of Spira. The younger man motioned silently to the empty stool beside him, turning his gaze to the window once more.  
  
Masa ran his hand through his neatly cut brown hair. "Well. you're going to be leaving tomorrow, huh?" Tyron nodded wordlessly. "I suppose. well, I know you're going to make it back alive. You've got too much talent to die at the hands of some ugly fiend." In some weird way, Tyron hoped he would die out on the fields. give his life making a difference in the world. He shrugged.  
  
Clearly, Masa was feeling very awkward at Tyron's silence, and so he tried to get to the point. "Look. Tyron, you know I've been working as a swordsmith recently.and I was kind of wondering if you wanted a sword. I mean, you've been a great guy in all the time you've been here. and I figure, if you're going to be a hero, you'll need a weapon, right?"  
  
Tyron knew Masa was just fishing for reasons here, but found himself actually touched by the sentiment. He turned around, and shot a small smile at the oldest brother. "I'd like that, Masa. you can start making it, if you want. But don't give it to me until I deserve it."  
  
The younger man had said nothing to definitely end the conversation, but both of them knew it was over.  
  
Another crack echoed through the air, this time morphing into deafeningly loud heartbeats. Tyron swung at the fiend, this horrible corruption, this Malboro, fighting for his life. He had gotten separated from Taradine and Amono, had forgotten his special charms, and now, he was going to die.  
  
The putrid odor of the Malboro's toxic breath washed over the young swordsman, filling him with nausea and an urge to vomit. He managed to suppress that compulsion, dashing at the large fiend and slicing several of its eye-stalks off, hoping to blind it. However, the Malboro had many more. Its gaping maw spread wide, exhaling another dose of noxious air. This assault dropped Tyron to his knees, and his vision went dark. Through his mental haze, the young warrior saw a tentacle lashing towards him, picking him up and squeezing him tightly.  
  
He saw the Malboro's mouth opening even wider, and realized he was being pulled into it, a delectable meal for the horrible fiend. As the fangs of the beast closed around him, one slicing deep into his neck, Tyron made a last stand. He took a desperate stab upwards, penetrating the roof of the monster's mouth. The creature bellowed in pain, flinging this gnat away. Unfortunately for Tyron, the razor-sharp fang was yanked out with him, and as he fell, sliced a deep gash all the way to the small of his back.  
  
Fighting the pain and agony, Tyron lifted his blade up in the air, blood streaming from his back and from his nose. the blade shone white, and the young warrior shot past the gigantic fiend, unleashing a massive cut enhanced by powerful ki energy.  
  
As the pyreflies wisped into the air around him, Tyron knew he was poisoned, and began a final fall to the ground.  
  
He never made it. A pair of strong, warm hands caught him as he fell, and he passed into the dream world knowing, somehow, that he was safe.his heartbeat thudded in his ears, growing louder and louder, becoming a series of rhythmic bangs.  
  
Tyron's silver eyes flashed open as another bang echoed through the air. That wasn't his heartbeat. he narrowed his eyes, plucking his katana from the ground in one smooth motion. It was a gunshot. The acrid odor of smoke washed across him, and he fought the urge to retch, so powerful was the recent memory of his encounter with the Malboro.  
  
The warrior turned to see the distant yet unmistakable light of flames deep within his sanctuary. and strode to meet them.  
  
Interlude (Part Five)  
  
"Who in the name of Yevon are you, jackass?" growled the bulky man who had been planning on crushing the skull of the unconscious Al Bhed girl scant moments before, until Tyron had intervened. "You some sort of Al Bhed lover or something?" He shook his head, his flabby jowls shaking. "It's sick what some people will do to protect these. animals."  
  
Tyron paid no mind to the ramblings of the hoodlum, his gaze focused on the gaunt swordsman who was standing calmly in the middle of the brush fire, ignoring the smoke and flames around him, meeting the warrior's stare. The other two-three, actually, but the girl had taken care of one already-posed no threat. this man was the real problem.  
  
His view of the swordsman was obscured by the thug's bulk, determined to get a response. "Hey, stupid, I'm talking to you! You better get out of her before we decide to string her up with a rope made out of your flesh!"  
  
The older warrior gave no indication that he had even heard the fat Yevonite, still staring straight ahead.  
  
"Fine then," snorted the ruffian. "Hey, Luther!" he called to the swordsman. "Let's kick his ass!" With a sound not unlike that of an elephant stampede, the massive thug ran at the much smaller Tyron, obviously hoping to crush him.  
  
All of a sudden, Tyron wasn't there anymore, and the hoodlum felt something wooden and hard clock him on the back of the neck with what felt like enough force to split stone. Clutching his head in pain, the thug stumbled and tripped into a burning bush, extinguishing the flame with his bulk. "What the.!!" he yelped, as the pain from the fire and the strike hit him simultaneously.  
  
Tyron was crouched in a low stance, his sword-still sheathed-held in the exact position where it had made contact with the thug's skull. Standing up, he returned the weapon to its resting place at his hip, where the black scabbard blended in perfectly with the shadows surrounding him.  
  
Two hands reached out of the darkness behind him, holding a rope that was obviously meant to be a garrote. Tyron jerked backwards, bringing his arm up and smashing the base of the hilt into the second thug's face, then placed his left foot in between the ruffian's legs and spun around. The expression on the thug's face as he felt his legs break with an earsplitting 'crack' was almost comical. Howling in pain, the second thug fell down beside his stunned compatriot.  
  
"Very impressive." The swordsman named Luther hadn't budged, being content to watch Tyron teach his fellows a lesson. "You know how to handle yourself."  
  
"As do you."  
  
Luther motioned to Tyron's outfit, the black-and-white Crusaders' uniform. "I wonder. do you wear it like that to symbolize how you have perverted the holy values and teachings of Yevon by protecting these. these." Luther's face contorted wildly in the golden firelight. ".these BEASTS!"  
  
Still as cool as ever, Tyron shrugged. "You've obviously defiled them more."  
  
The rage on the gaunt Savior's face metamorphosed into pure, blind, hate at this newcomer who had dared to even imply that he, Luther Ansr, was not a devout and faithful Yevonite. But this stranger had crossed the line by suggesting that Luther, in his following of Yevon, had defiled the sacred teachings.  
  
With a bellow of rage, Luther leapt at Tyron, his scimitar slicing over his head in a broad vertical stroke. At the same instant, the Crusader let his wooden sheath fall to the ground, whipping the katana up to parry the blow with a speed that defied description.  
  
Naked steel met naked steel with a crash, and Luther's nostril's flared. The blades disengaged, and he feinted low before slashing at Tyron's midsection, only to have the strike blocked again.  
  
The two swordsmen traded blows back and forth, ignoring the rapidly- spreading fire that threatened to consume them. Tyron dashed forward, arcing his katana through the air in a disemboweling strike that Luther ducked under, stabbing viciously up at Tyron's abdomen. In the same motion, the Crusader pivoted quickly to the side, blocking the deadly blade with the hilt of his sword. Continuing the turn, Tyron brought his fist down to smash into the Savior's face.  
  
Luther staggered, but responded with a brutal kick to the thigh that brought Tyron down to one knee for a moment, before recovering just in time to parry another strike.  
  
The kick that Luther had delivered had broken Tyron's momentum, and the swordsman pressed his advantage, driving the older man back. back to where the bulky man, his compatriot, was slowly climbing to his feet. Tyron kept retreating, easily parrying Luther's feints. but then stopped as he collided with the bulky Yevonite.  
  
With a crow of victory, Luther stepped forward, the scimitar coming up in a diagonal cut that started low and to Luther's left and ended high and to the right. There was no way that the Crusader could possibly dodge this one, he knew.  
  
But then his comrade screamed out loud and clutched the gash that had appeared on his belly, and Luther's blood froze in his veins. He felt his legs being kicked out from under him, and hit the ground on his knees at the same time as the bulky man fell to the forest floor.  
  
Behind him, Tyron swung his razor-sharp katana around in a grand decapitating strike, and Luther welcomed oblivion, the chance to meet his Creator. but then, Tyron slightly adjusted the strike, and clocked the gaunt swordsman over the head with his hilt, instead. Luther fell to the ground, unconscious.  
  
His foes dispatched, Tyron quickly hurried over to the young girl writhing on the ground, and knelt at her side, feeling her pulse. It was regular, but much too quick, and her face was drenched in cold sweat as she shuddered. A quick glance at the scarlet haloing the wound on her stomach told him all that he needed to know. She had been poisoned, and the only way she would survive would be to get her to the nearest temple for healing, and quickly.  
  
Tyron tried to pick her up, but her febrile struggles complicated things a bit. "Hold still!" he commanded, but got no response.  
  
Finally, it dawned on him. "Rumt cdemm!" he repeated the same command in the Al Bhed tongue, and this time, he got results. Although she was still shivering, hearing her native tongue must have reassured her some, and the girl stopped struggling violently.  
  
Now that she was still, Tyron picked her up and gently slung her over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, he spared a glance around at the clearing, at the flames that threatened to overtake it, and whispered an incantation- one of the very few he knew how to perform. Drops of mist coalesced from thin air, and condensed into water, pouring down on the fires and extinguishing them, causing clouds of steam to billow into the night sky.  
  
The girl over his shoulders, Tyron walked through the steam. He didn't know her name, or where she was from. but she needed his help. Taradine would be proud. 


	14. Arc Two: 'To be a Summoner' Chapter 72

Chapter Seven (7.2)  
  
Seagulls screeched, waves crashed against the shore, and the wooden deck creaked beneath Kecci as he walked toward the bow. It was early in the morning; the sun was just over the horizon, yet he could already tell it would be a beautiful day. The island of Kilika loomed directly in front of him, growing steadily larger every second as the ship sailed in.  
  
From this distance, Kecci could only see a few things on the island. That structure at the top of the mountain would surely be the temple, of course. he couldn't see the winding path that lead up through the jungle to the sacred place, but he knew it was there. Much closer to sea level was the tiny group of huts that made up one of the smaller towns on Kilika. The main port was on the other side of the island, a fairly large town-for Spira, at least.  
  
However small the village they were sailing to was, it was a very important one. Not only did the wide, flat expanses of beach nearby provide a perfect training ground for up-and-coming blitzball players, the small village was the closest settlement to the Kilika Temple. All the summoners coming to the island came through this tiny hamlet. The full-fledged summoners would sail in, make their pilgrimage to the temple, then leave. Apprentice summoners and their guardians who were studying in Kilika-like Kecci and Neirana-would live in the small village for the duration of their training.  
  
The young man turned around and made his way back to his small cabin. They would be docking in a few minutes. Kecci closed the door behind him and sat down on his neatly made bunk. For the next minute or so, he remained deep in thought. Jumbles of words, pictures, and emotions kept flashing through his mind. He didn't know if he should be happy, nervous, scared, excited, or if he should simply just break down crying. At long last, things seemed to sort themselves out in his mind, and he stood up again.  
  
It was at that very moment that the bell on the top of the ship began to ring, signaling the beginning of the docking process. Kecci rubbed his eyes to clear them, then leaned down and slung his bag over his shoulder. With that, he looked around the small cabin to make sure he hadn't left anything behind. After his inspection, Kecci walked out the door into the sunlight, to meet whatever lay in wait.  
  
Kecci stepped out on the deck, blinked several times to adapt his eyes to the sudden glare of light, and then turned towards the bow of the ship. Looking out over the water, he frowned. Kilika seemed a whole lot closer now than it had a scant few minutes ago. probably just a trick of the light, though.  
  
He turned as he heard footsteps from behind him, to see Neirana briskly walking down the deck from her own cabin, her bag over her shoulder and Quicksilver at her side. She smiled at him, not a trace of the previous night's tears on her face. "You ready?" She asked him as she reached his side, setting her sea-green sack down at her feet.  
  
The shorter boy managed a wan smile before turning to look at the rapidly approaching island town. "Do I have to answer that honestly?" Now, he could make out a crowd of people on the docks. they were waiting for them. Kecci felt a lump rise in his throat. 'I can't do this.' he thought to himself. 'There's no way I can do this.'  
  
"Don't worry about it." Neirana squeezed his hand reassuringly. "We'll do just fine." The next moment, she dropped Kecci's hand, eyes wide, and began to wave excitedly to the people on the shore. "Kecci, it's the Beasts! The Kilika Beasts are training there!"  
  
Confused, her best friend squinted as he tried to see the crowd better. and then he saw a blitzball bounce of the water, accompanied by a cheer from the crowd. They weren't there for the two kids from Luca, after all. they were there to watch the Beasts train. Kecci wasn't sure if he felt chagrined or relieved. Or maybe both.  
  
Kilika was far too close, now. as Kecci watched, a tall muscular man in the uniform of the Kilika Beasts climbed out of the water onto the docks, and flashed a too-white grin that was visible from out on the boat. Inwardly, Kecci groaned, as Neirana waved even more excitedly. That was Olawa Andresen, in the flesh. The blitzball star pointed out at the ocean, at the approaching boat, and another cheer went up from the crowd. And this time, Kecci realized, they were actually cheering for him.  
  
Five minutes passed in an instant, and before the apprentice summoner knew it, the boat gently bumped its side up against the dock, the ropes were tied, and the gangplank was lowered with an earsplitting creak. The crowd was still cheering. and amidst the haze in Kecci's head, he realized that he was picking up his bag and staff, and walking towards the plankway. Captain Brand was standing there, and smiled at the two teenagers. His lips moved, but Kecci didn't hear a thing, and simply nodded. 'I can't do this, oh Yevon, I can't do this, why am I doing this?'  
  
Yet despite the protests of Kecci's brain, his legs kept moving of their own accord. three more steps down the wooden plank. two more. one more. Kecci's feet touched the wooden dock of Kilika, with an impossibly loud thud.  
  
In that instant, the fogginess surrounding his mind evaporated, leaving only the harsh light of reality. There were only about twenty or thirty people there, but the sound they made seemed louder than the deafening roar of the blitzball stadium. Kecci was suddenly stricken by an overwhelming desire to jump into the ocean and sink from sight. They weren't cheering for him. They were cheering for the summoner-to-be.  
  
One voice in particular cut through the din like a knife. "Well if it isn't little Nei!" the booming laugh echoed in Kecci's ears, and the crowd quickly became subdued. Olawa Andresen, water dripping from his muscular body, stepped into view, flashing his trademark grin at the blushing girl who had just walked off the gangplank behind Kecci. "You came all the way to Luca just to watch the Beasts training in our off-season? That's the mark of a pretty devoted fan."  
  
Neirana shook her head, her face dark red. "N-no, Olawa. I'm. I'm here as a guardian." At that moment, the noise of the crowd stopped completely, and Olawa frowned.  
  
"A guardian? To who? Where's the summoner that was supposed to be traveling on this ship anyway?"  
  
A blush colored Kecci's dark cheeks, and he looked up to fix Andresen with a stare. "I'm the summoner. Well. apprentice summoner, anyway. She's my guardian."  
  
As he said that, Kecci could feel the gaze of the crowd focusing on him as one, as if taking notice of him for the first time. He imagined he could hear whispers from the back, remarking that he didn't seem like much of a summoner. Yet Kecci fought the urge to look at his feet, and met the stare of the crowd. They were looking at him with curiosity, wonder, a bit of disbelief. Olawa just seemed confused.  
  
There was one pair of eyes in particular that caught Kecci's attention. A girl, with an oddly pale face and long dark hair was staring at him, coolly evaluating him. Kecci didn't know why. but her eyes, her light green eyes, seemed to radiate a sense of incredible power. As he met her stare, a shiver ran up and down his spine, and he reflexively looked away.  
  
"Well, well, well. a summoner, huh?" Andresen's voice was quieter, less mirthful. "That's a pretty big responsibility." His eyes seemed to harden. "I don't believe I ever caught your name."  
  
Olawa Andresen was a very athletic person, quite strong and muscular. yet when Kecci looked into his sapphire eyes, he didn't even feel a fraction of the power that the girl had radiated. "My name is Kecci Hayado." He said with the same quiet tone that the blitzball star had used. Now, Kecci could definitely hear whispers coming from the crowd. Rikai Hayado had been a famous Crusader.  
  
A momentary expression of shock passed over Andresen's face as he silently mouthed 'Hayado' to himself. but then he laughed again. "Well, then, Kecci, pleased to meet you! And you certainly are a lucky summoner, to have such a beautiful and talented guardian!" He walked over to where Kecci and Neirana were standing and extended his hand to the much shorter boy. Unsure of what to do, Kecci hesitantly took it and shook it.  
  
Andresen turned and looked over his shoulder, and called out, "Hey, Jike, pass that up here, will ya?" A blitzball came sailing over the crowd, and the jock caught it in one massive hand. Turning back to Kecci, he grinned. "Well, Kecci, I hope you have fun training to be a summoner. the temple messenger isn't here yet, so while you're waiting. care to have a little dryland game?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to a wide expanse of beach where two goals had been set up some distance apart.  
  
Loud laughter split the air, and everybody turned, startled. The pale girl with the black hair, giggling madly, ran away down the dock and into one of the huts above the water. As the crowd tried to figure out what her deal was, Olawa turned back to Kecci. "Well, what do you say?"  
  
"I'm not an idiot, Andresen." Kecci tried to keep all traces of bitterness from his voice, but wasn't entirely sure that he had succeeded. "You're a professional blitzball player, and a star one at that. Even on dry land, you'll still beat me. Why subject myself to humiliation?"  
  
The grin on Andresen's face grew wider. "Aww, come on. Okay, how about this? I need to score five times, you only need to score once. And if you want, anybody who wants to can help you out." Andresen fixed his grin on Neirana. "What do you say, do you want to help your pal Kecci here?"  
  
Flushing bright red, Neirana shook her head. "N-no, I think I'll pass. sorry, Kecci," she said abashedly. "I'm going to sit this one out." Kecci felt a stab of pain but refused to let her see.  
  
"Oh well. guess it's just you and me then." Andresen smiled that smile that Kecci wanted to hit. "But come on. five goals to one, I think that's a pretty fair set up, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, come on! Let's see some blitzball!" shouted someone from the throng of onlookers, setting off a torrent of shouts, egging Kecci on. The boy from Luca sighed. Even if he did say no, no one would hear him now. so despite what his best judgment told him to do, he nodded.  
  
A minute or so later, Kecci found himself barefoot on the beach, facing down the star player of the Kilika Beasts, with a steadily growing crowd of about fifty people watching from the docks. The two opponents were about twenty feet apart, with a blitzball in the middle of them. Andresen's teammates were standing off to the side, snickering at the boy who was surely about to be humiliated. Kecci tried to ignore them, and failed. Most of the crowd seemed to be rooting for their homegrown hero, but there were a few who seemed to be cheering him on. Thankfully, Neirana was one of them.  
  
There were two people who didn't seem to be cheering at all, however. One of them was the pale girl from before, having returned, and who was pointing straight at him. Right beside her was a man who was absolutely huge, dwarfing her. he had long, flowing red hair that reached all the way down to the center of his back. He seemed to be laughing.  
  
He was so absorbed in his examination of the two that he almost missed Sena Kukata blowing the whistle that would start the impromptu match. Startled, Kecci's reaction time was slightly less than spectacular. He had barely started running for the ball when Andresen slid into the sand, kicking the ball with extreme force directly at Kecci. The shorter boy quickly changed direction, diving out of the path of the ball with inches to spare. and the blitzball went straight into the net. Andresen laughed, as did most of the onlookers. Kecci felt anger begin to build deep inside.  
  
The next time the whistle blew, Kecci was ready, and sprinted for the ball. Thanks to a miracle of some sort (or maybe Andresen was going easy on him) he made it before the blitzball star, and scooped the ball up. In the next moment, he had fumbled it, and the jock booted it into the goal once more.  
  
Kecci didn't even touch the ball the next two times, both of which were flashy over the head kicks straight into the goal. the fire burning within the apprentice summoner was raging now, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't win. Kecci was glad that this wasn't in the water, because his cheeks were so hot that he felt that he would be steaming were that the case. Resigning himself to humiliation, Kecci got down in preparation for the final blow of the whistle.  
  
When it finally came, he took off, yet Andresen was quicker once more. The blitzball star scooped it up and tossed it into the air. Yet before the jock could kick it into the goal, a fiery blur smashed into him, sending him flying.  
  
The blitzball fell out of the air, unkicked, with a dull 'thud', and lay there. Before Kecci knew what he was doing, he dashed forward and booted the ball with all of his might. surprisingly enough, it sailed across the sand and into the goal. The crowd immediately stopped cheering and laughing, stunned at this unexpected turn of events.  
  
Kecci turned to see what had happened to Andresen, and started. The hugely muscular man with the long red hair was standing over the jock's prone body. From this close up, Kecci could see that he was about twenty, with a neatly trimmed goatee just as red as his hair.  
  
With a face as red as the larger man's hair, Andresen climbed to his feet, obviously furious. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you stupid oaf? Who told you to butt in!"  
  
The bigger man stared at the blitzball player calmly, and said, in an accented voice. "You did say that anyone who wanted could help him out. I wanted to help."  
  
Andresen's eyes bulged at this, and as he heard the man's accent, began to rant again. "Oh, now I understand. you're a filthy Nagijin! No better than those heathen Al Bhed! So you come here with your prehistoric ways and think you can butt in to the affairs of your superiors? Go back to your cave!" Ranting and raving, Olawa Andresen didn't seem to notice the growing anger on the larger man's face. "Do you know who I am? I'm the star forward of the Kilika Beasts! I could have you arrested and sent back from the hell- "  
  
In the blink of an eye, the Nagijin's massive fist had blasted out, socking the jock in the face. Andresen's eyes crossed as blood began to trickle from his nose, and then he sunk to the sand, unmoving. "Yes, I know who you are." the other man continued as if nothing had happened. "Oh, and by the way. go Fangs," he added, almost as an afterthought. The crowd began to murmur to itself. not only had this foreigner knocked their hero cold, but he had dared to root for another blitzball team in front of them. he was definitely a hair's breadth from crossing the line.  
  
The Nagijin turned to Kecci, and grinned. "Interesting game, huh?" Kecci found himself unable to speak, and merely nodded. The taller man brushed his scorching hair behind his shoulder, walked over to Kecci, and shook his hand. "You're an apprentice summoner, eh? My name's Roth. I'm here with Nesici, the girl over there." As he said her name, he sighed, and Kecci got a suspicious feeling that the relationship between the two was more than friendly. "She's also training to be a summoner, and I'm her guardian."  
  
So the girl that radiated power was going to be a summoner. made sense. and this Goliath was a guardian. "Impressive team you've got there." Kecci whispered, awestruck. These two would surely defeat Sin, he knew it. With such raw talent. the monster would never stand a chance. "I'm Kecci. Nice to meet you."  
  
"Nice to meet you indeed." Roth smiled. "So, let's go up to the temple, shall we? Then you can find where you'll be staying. it's definitely going to be an interesting few months, I can tell you that." And the two of them climbed onto the docks, ignoring the horrified stares of the onlookers as the remaining Beasts made sure that Olawa Andresen was okay.  
  
Neirana was waiting for the two boys on the dock, with Kecci's bag and staff in her hand. She threw them down on the ground as he approached, anger on her face. "Nice game," she said icily. "Too bad you had to win by cheating." With that, she spun around and stalked off, carrying her own bag.  
  
Scratching his head, Roth looked at her retreating back. "Who's that and what's her problem?" He asked, puzzled.  
  
Kecci leaned down to pick up his stuff, a bit stunned by Neirana's cold attitude. "That's Neirana. my best friend and guardian. She's got a crush on Andresen, so you know." 'A stupid, stupid, naïve crush.' Kecci thought to himself.  
  
"Wow. That's a bigger problem than I would've imagined. so, she's probably not very happy with us right now, huh?"  
  
"You could say that." Kecci sighed as he watched Nei walking away in a huff. These were definitely going to be an interesting few months. 


	15. Arc Two: 'To be a Summoner' Chapter Eig...

Chapter Eight  
  
"How much farther is the temple?" asked the dark-skinned boy, wiping sweat from his forehead. Kecci had been following the older man up the winding jungle path to the broad steps that lead to the Summoner's Temple of Kilika. Although he was trying not to show it, the shorter boy was getting winded from the long climb, while his guide expressed almost no signs of exertion whatsoever.  
  
Roth continued climbing the stone steps that had been hewn from the mountain centuries before. "Only thirteen more flights of steps to go," he said off-handedly, as though it didn't matter. "We're almost there."  
  
Inwardly, Kecci groaned. They had been climbed a seemingly uncountable number of stairs already, and there were still thirteen flights left! Feeling a bit short of breath, he waved for the muscular redhead to stop for a moment. Kecci slowly walked over to the side of the staircase, laid his staff down on one of the steps, and sat down on the edge, looking down at everything below him.  
  
Kilika Island was shaped like a four-pointed star, rising in the middle to a single peak, a mountain that had once been an active volcano, millennia before. Nowadays, the fires at the top of the summit were ceremonial and sacred torches, to honor the fayth that was housed deep within, beyond the Cloister of Trials, within the Summoner's Sanctum.  
  
When the temple had been constructed, long ago, the makers had chiseled countless flights of steps to make it accessible to the worshipers. The feat in itself was impressive, but what made it even more so was that they hadn't even used a single machina tool to help them get the job done. They had been constructed totally by hand.  
  
Kecci looked out over the deep blue sea, so placid and serene, trying to orient himself. The sun was slightly to his left, and it was still morning, so that meant he was facing south. He was looking away from Luca in the north, looking away from his sanctuary, his home.  
  
The steps wound down the mountain, slowly fading into the dense jungle below, the green that lined the path and wreathed the top of the peak with a verdant halo. The dark-skinned boy tried to look for the small port he had arrived in, but didn't find it.  
  
"The port's on the north side of the island, you can't see it from here." Roth spoke up from behind him, as if reading his thoughts. "Kilika's main city is on the east, though." he pointed off to Kecci's left-hand side, where the younger boy could see what looked like the fringes of a large town before the mountain cut off his view. "It's quite a sight, huh?"  
  
The shorter boy nodded. "I'll say. In Luca, everything's so flat and close together. I've never seen anything like this before."  
  
Roth laughed, a deep boom that was made more endearing because of his accent. "You haven't seen anything until you've seen my home. the Calm Lands." he propped one massive foot up on the edge beside Kecci. "If you're high up and near the edge. like in my town. you can see for miles. It's completely open and empty." He sighed. "It's beautiful."  
  
Kecci was struck by the sense of loneliness in the larger man's voice. He looked at Roth, whose long red hair was gently blowing in the breeze. "Why'd you leave and become a guardian?" he asked, hoping he wasn't prying too much.  
  
For a few moments, Roth was silent, and Kecci wished he could take the comment back. At long last, the guardian spoke. "Yeah, you don't see many Nagijin summoners or guardians, do you?" Kecci shook his head, feeling uncomfortable, and neglecting to mention that his own guardian was, in fact, half-Nagijin. "I guess one of the reasons that Nesici and I chose our path was to break that stigmata that we have as cousins to the Al Bhed."  
  
The larger man stood up and turned around, walking a few steps before stopping. "I mean, everyone assumes that we don't believe in Yevon or the fayth or the Farplane just because we share a common ancestry with the Al Bhed. When you get right down to it, we all share roots, don't we?" Roth sat down again on the steps, softly stroking his goatee. "Another reason would have to be Nesici. wherever she goes, I go." Roth chuckled. "Kinda pathetic, don't you think?"  
  
"No, actually, I don't think it's pathetic at all."  
  
Roth shot a sapphire glance at the smaller boy, and their eyes met. He held the gaze for several seconds before breaking away, chuckling. "I'd like to say I'm surprised, but that'd be a lie." He stretched, his muscles rippling. "So, how long have you and her been an item?"  
  
The summoner immediately flushed a dark red, and tried to cover the dull ache in his heart by laughing. Somehow, he didn't think Roth was fooled. "Well. actually, we're not. I mean, she's my best friend in the world. I wouldn't want to ruin something like that, you know?"  
  
"Yeah, I know." This time, Roth's voice was knowing, understanding. "I've been in your shoes before." Kecci didn't ask him about that, not wanting to pry any more than he felt he had already been doing.  
  
The two of them sat in silence for a minute or so, taking in the view, when Roth spoke up again. "Can I trust you, Kecci?"  
  
"I don't see why not." For some reason, the fact that the Nagijin had called him by his name made the question feel slightly more important, more urgent.  
  
Roth looked down at the stone steps, before closing his eyes and speaking. "The third reason I wanted to become a guardian is because of my brother. well, because of the Gray Hand, actually."  
  
Raising an eyebrow, Kecci looked at the red-haired man. "What's that? The Gray Hand, I mean?"  
  
".well, I said that the Nagijin aren't necessarily like the Al Bhed, right?" Kecci nodded, and the taller man continued. "Well, that doesn't mean they're fully Yevonite or anything either." He swallowed before continuing. "The Gray Hand is a cult that worships Sin. or more accurately, thinks that Sin is a blessing to purge the world of the unclean."  
  
A flash of rage welled up within Kecci's stomach, a burning anger as he remembered the blitzball tournament and the attack of Sin. Those people hadn't been unclean. Sin was a vile monster, nothing else. how could people worship that beast?  
  
The Crusader, Gim. to even suggest that he had been unclean, that he had deserved the cruel death he had received was sacrilege, nothing more. The dark-skinned boy began to tremble with anger, when Roth held up a hand.  
  
"I know, I know, it's horrible."  
  
"Horrible doesn't even begin to describe it," whispered Kecci, making a fist.  
  
Roth sighed heavily. "You're telling me this? The worst part about the Gray Hand. once you get in, you can't get out. I'm not talking about being shamed or ridiculed if you quit. the Gray Hand can do something to your mind. You become an agent for them until you die, whether you like it or not, and there's nothing you can do about it. You become trapped."  
  
The massive Nagijin leaned back, eyes open, staring at the empty blue sky. "My twin brother, Loye, was always my best friend. We played together, played pranks together, fought together. he was the one who actually introduced me to Nesici. I didn't think anything could come between Loye and me, but I was wrong. The. the damn Gray Hand." he said, slamming his huge fist into the rock, angrily. "They corrupted him, and now he's one of them."  
  
The dark-skinned summoner, anger under control for the moment, looked over at his newfound friend. "So you want revenge? That's why you and Nesici chose the path you did?"  
  
Rubbing his eyes, Roth sat up. "You could put it like that, yeah." He stood up, brushing the dust off his black coat that he wore over his bare chest, clearly not wanting to talk about his brother Loye anymore. "So, come on, let's get moving to the top! After we're done up there, we gotta come all the way down again, so get used to it!"  
  
For a few seconds, Kecci watched the muscular guardian walk away, puzzled, before picking his staff up and following him up the steps.  
  
* * *  
  
Kecci and Roth had just reached the top of the stairs when a man, dressed in the white robes with purple trim of the Yevon Priesthood, came down the steps to meet them. He was a short man, somewhat big-boned, with a pleasant smile on his face. "I know you, Mr. Kage," Kecci looked around in confusion before realizing, with some embarrassment, that Kage must have been Roth's last name. "But you, I don't know." He turned to the shorter boy, looking him up and down. "You're here to be a summoner, are you not?" he said at last.  
  
"Y-yes," Kecci stuttered. "I.ah. my name is Kecci Hayado. I just arrived on the boat an hour or so ago."  
  
The priest beamed. "Ah yes, Mr. Hayado. we had word you were coming. My name is Father Hukaso. I'm the priest in charge of summoner training at this temple," he said, bowing and cupping his hands in front of him in the traditional prayer gesture, which both Kecci and Roth returned. After a moment, he straightened up, a somewhat puzzled look on his face. "I believe that Brother Roth here is the guardian to Miss Kyn, and not to you, Brother Kecci," he said with a wink. "So where might your own guardian be?"  
  
The young apprentice summoner gave a barely noticeable sigh. Ever since Neirana had stormed off after the impromptu blitzball match, he hadn't seen her. Even though his conscience told him that she really had no reason to be angry, it still hurt. "She's still down at the port," he sighed. "Where she is specifically, I don't know."  
  
Hukaso raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "I see. well, we'll send a messenger down for her." He smiled again. "When we train summoners and guardians, obviously we can't have them sleeping in the temple, there's just not enough room! So, we house them in the port town you arrived in. you will be sharing a hut with one other person until you have become a full-fledged summoner and leave Kilika to go off into the world."  
  
Up until then, Roth had been looking off the steps at the surrounding forest closely, but he turned his attention back to the priest. "Father Hukaso, that reminds me. has the person who's going to be sharing my hut arrived yet? Or is there still no word?"  
  
The priest chuckled. "As a matter of fact, your bunkmate arrived today. And apparently, you've already met him and seem to be getting along rather well. Brother Kecci, you will be staying in the same hut as Brother Roth here."  
  
The two men looked at each other, and Roth laughed, extending a hand to the apprentice summoner, as if meeting him for the first time. "Well then, Kecci, nice to meet you. C'mon, let's go get you settled in!"  
  
Kecci smirked and shook the larger man's hand, before groaning as he realized it meant another long trek down the mountain.  
  
* * *  
  
After the two friends had reached the port again, Kecci noticed people were shooting angry glares at Roth because of the incident earlier with Andresen, but the massive Nagijin paid them no mind. Roth led Kecci to the small thatched hut they would be sharing-barely big enough for the two of them-and Kecci put his belongings away and gotten settled in. Kecci, thanking the guardian for helping him, left the hut to reflect on the day's events.  
  
He walked down the wooden planks that comprised the streets of the small village, held above the water by logs. As he walked, trying to expel the enormous weight he felt pressing down at him, he found himself at the docks. The ship he had arrived on had left an hour so before, so that particular area was empty. Kecci took off his sandals and sat down at the edge, dangling his feet in the water.  
  
There were two young boys, brothers probably, who were playing with a small blitzball on another dock about thirty feet away. The younger of the two went to kick the studded ball, but missed and fell on his back. As he cried, his older brother went over to him and gave him a protective, reassuring hug, trying to cheer his sibling up. As he saw this, the dark- skinned apprentice summoner smiled, feeling a warmth wash over him. There was good in this world, not just Sin.  
  
Lately, it seemed he had been forgetting that.  
  
As Kecci slowly dangled his toes in the gently lapping water, he lay down on his back, looking up at the sky, slowly reddening as the sun continued its long journey down to the horizon.  
  
A minute passed, or maybe an hour, Kecci didn't know. He lost track of time, watching the gulls gliding overhead in the sea breeze. Above him, the few clouds in the otherwise empty sky took on a soft gold-crimson hue as the sun began to set. Kecci heard footsteps behind him, and sat up, turning to see who it was.  
  
"This seat taken?" Neirana smiled, slipping her sandals off and sitting beside her best friend. Her summoner. The blonde girl exhaled softly, reaching beside her and taking out her hair-tie, letting her sun-bleached hair fall down around her shoulders. "So, what's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?" she asked with a wry grin. "Why are you sitting out here all by yourself?"  
  
Kecci found himself at a loss for words, feeling rather vulnerable at the moment. "I. I guess I was just thinking about everything. you know, being a summoner and all that." He looked up at her, arching an eyebrow. "So, you're not still mad?"  
  
His friend's energetic smile softened, becoming gentle and sincere. "You know I can't get mad at you. you're my best friend, Kecci." Neirana reached over to him and playfully mussed up his dark hair. "Granted, I'm not very happy with what your new-found friend did," she said, frowning. "But Olawa's fine now, so everything's good."  
  
The apprentice exhaled a subtle sigh of relief, brushing his hair back into place. "Well, I don't think you can really blame Roth. I mean, Olawa was being pretty antagonistic."  
  
Neirana bit her lip softly, pulling her legs out of the water and hugging her knees to her chest. "You're right. you should've heard him when he woke up. He was ranting about those 'damn Nagijin,'" she lowered her voice to imitate the blitzer, "and how 'they don't know their place.'"  
  
"Did you tell him that you're half-Nagijin yourself, 'Rana?" The dark- skinned boy looked at his friend.  
  
"Well, no." Neirana looked down. "I mean, he was kind of mad, I didn't want to make him even angrier. But he was only kidding, anyway!" she added quickly, forcing a laugh. "He didn't really mean anything he said."  
  
The friends stayed silent for a while, watching the sun creep lower in the sky. Kecci broke the quiet, asking her a question. "What do you think a summoner's pilgrimage is for, 'Rana?"  
  
"Isn't that obvious?" His friend sounded a bit confused. "The pilgrimage is to destroy Sin."  
  
"But is that all? I mean. is that all we have to look forward to? I have a hard time seeing that. look at what other summoners become. They teach apprentices, they become priests. I can't believe that Sin is the be-all and end-all of the summoner's path."  
  
Neirana's voice took on a quieter, gentler tone. "The summoner's path begins and ends with Sin. but I don't think it's the most important thing." She turned, and leaned back against her friend, resting her head on his lap. Kecci softly stroked her hair, listening. "I think it was my dad who told me this, a long time ago: 'your destination doesn't matter, it's the path you choose to get there.'"  
  
She closed her eyes and continued. "If the pilgrimage is only about Sin, that makes Spira only about Sin. But the journey isn't about Sin, it isn't about death."  
  
Kecci finished the thought for her, feeling some of the weight on his shoulders melt away. "It's about life."  
  
"Right. The journey isn't about destroying Sin, it's about healing the pain of everyone who lives. about friends and family." The girl opened her green eyes again, smiling up at Kecci. "If you didn't mean the world to me, I wouldn't be here right now, you know."  
  
His breath caught in his throat, and Kecci felt his face flushing a dark scarlet. He couldn't say something, but for some reason, felt that nothing needed to be said. The two of them remained in that position, with Kecci softly stroking her hair, for a while longer.  
  
This time, Neirana broke the silence. "Hey, Kecci?"  
  
"Mm?"  
  
".have you ever been in love?"  
  
Whatever question Kecci was expecting, that was definitely not it. A thousand different responses ran through his mind: 'I'm in love with you,' 'Of course, can't you see it,' 'You're beautiful and you make me feel warm and content, and I love you, damn it!'  
  
".no," he lied, at last. He couldn't say it.  
  
She smiled. "Well, I'd hope not!"  
  
Again, her answer took Kecci by surprise. Was she. did she really mean that.? "Wait, what do you mean?"  
  
"I'd have hoped that if you ever were in love, you'd feel like you could tell your best friend about it," she laughed, reaching up and squeezing his hand. "Just so long as you aren't keeping secrets from me."  
  
'If you only knew. oh, Yevon. if you only knew, 'Rana.' Kecci faked a smirk, the calm he had been feeling replaced by a million uncertainties. "Well, maybe I have been, you know? A few dozen girls on the side really doesn't mean too much in the grand scheme of things, does it?"  
  
Neirana gently thwacked him on the arm. "Don't even joke about that."  
  
"Sorry. but out of curiosity, 'Rana, why do you ask?"  
  
The emerald-eyed girl paused for a moment before answering. "Because I think I'm in love with Olawa Andresen."  
  
This time, Kecci had been expecting the response. It didn't hurt any less, though. The dark-skinned boy wanted to shout at her that the blitzer didn't deserve her, that she was being stupid, that he loved her and that she was breaking his heart. But still, he remained quiet, trying to ignore the avalanche of boulders that seemed to be pouring into his stomach. "Oh."  
  
Obviously, Kecci hadn't hid his distress well enough, because Neirana sat up, looking at him with concern on her beautiful face. "Kecci," she sighed, squeezing his hands. "I know you don't like him, but don't worry about it. It's just a stupid little crush, nothing more. I promise you that nothing bad will happen. and he's going to be training down here with the Beasts, he probably won't even have time to do anything. and that's even IF he were interested in me!"  
  
She leaned in close, and hugged her best friend tightly, an embrace that he returned weakly. "First and foremost, I'm your best friend, Kecci Hayado." Neirana softly kissed him on the forehead. "And even more than that. I'm your guardian. Nothing will come between us, I promise. After all, I am the guardian."  
  
The guardian. His guardian. His Neirana.  
  
High above the friends, the first star of evening twinkled into being.  
  
Neirana softly smiled, once again ruffling his hair. "And now, I think, it's getting late, and it's time for good apprentice summoners and their guardians to go meet the people who they'll be living with for quite a bit of time." She frowned. "I hope I don't end up with an Aurochs fan. That wouldn't be fun."  
  
"What if you ended up with Lyska Guado?" Kecci squeezed her hand, standing up and helping her to her feet.  
  
His best friend made a face. "Ew. Jecco Tilber, maybe, but Lyska? Just. ew." Neirana smiled and hugged the apprentice summoner. "Kecci. I love you, you know that?"  
  
The dark-eyed summoner began to respond, but found his breath caught in his throat as he returned the embrace, burying his face in the taller girl's shoulder. Once he had found his voice once more, Kecci smiled at her. "I know, 'Rana. I love you too." As he broke off the embrace, he once more caught her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, he turned and walked off down the docks.  
  
Once he was sure that the blonde-haired guardian couldn't see him, Kecci sat down on a wooden pylon by the water's edge, and held his head in his hands. "Oh, holy Yevon, I love you."  
  
Vision after vision flashed in his mind's eye-Neirana smiling at him, giggling at something he had said; Neirana standing up with Quicksilver in her hands, a fire in her eyes, fiercely loyal to those she cared about; Neirana fighting back tears as her best friend chose his path on the beach.  
  
He loved her. Why couldn't he tell her that? Kecci had envisioned it so many times. he would march up to her, proud and brave, and announce that she was his world, and that he was completely in love with her. She would then at him, tell him that she loved him in return, and they would a warm, loving, kiss.  
  
The young summoner lifted his head, looking up at the few glittering diamonds in the pale orange sky. That fantasy wasn't her. it was just in his head, nothing more. It wouldn't ever be anything more. Neirana loved him, yes, but only as her best friend. nothing more. She didn't want anything more.  
  
And that was good enough, right? They weren't meant to be anything more than lifelong friends, were they? They were summoner and guardian, not lovers. and that was all right with Kecci. He forced a smile onto his face, and got up from his seat, pushing his doubts down for the time being. It was good enough for him.  
  
Wasn't it?  
  
* * *  
  
Neirana climbed the wooden steps to her own hut. Unlike the others, which were all clustered together in the little port village, the one that the girl had been assigned to was on a small bluff overlooking the beach below. Although the hike was a bit annoying, the guardian smiled. The view was worth it.  
  
Above the gently curving horizon, the sun fell, shimmering, wreathed in a golden flame. It cast long, scarlet shadows on the docks below, as mothers ushered their children inside, and the working men hauled in their boats, hung up their tools, or wrapped up whatever it was they did for a living.  
  
The young guardian was struck by the sense of community she felt here. In Luca, people knew each other, of course, but it was a big city. People came and went, friendships were forged and fell apart. The immutable stone buildings housed impermanence, housed change. Here, people knew each other. It was virtually impossible to not be well-acquainted and friendly with your neighbors and your neighbors' neighbors.  
  
One thing in particular caught the blonde girl's emerald gaze-a young, dark- skinned, dark-haired boy walked along one of the wooden docks, his earthen cloak trailing behind him.  
  
Neirana smiled, a warmth growing in her stomach. She had told Kecci that he meant the world to her, and she had meant it. ever since they had been children, she had connected with the quiet boy better than anyone else.  
  
She sighed, pulling her hair back and tying it into a ponytail once more. Lately, it seemed as though her best friend had been pulling away from her, had been more distant than ever before. Almost as if there was something he was afraid to tell her, really.  
  
All of a sudden, Neirana felt the impulse to laugh. Kecci was her best friend, and she his. he knew he could tell her anything, of course. And if there was anything that needed to be said, she knew that the young summoner would say it in good time.  
  
As she watched, the distant figure disappeared behind a hut, and the green- eyed girl turned to enter the hut.  
  
Neirana brushed aside the woven mat that functioned as a door, entering the hut. The small thatched building was circular, about twenty feet across. It was laid out like a compass, with the door at one pole, a small storage space for personal belongings directly opposite it, and two beds at both of the sides.  
  
The small hut was being lit by a flickering oil lantern, the flame casting dancing golden and crimson shadows on the walls. Right next to the lamp, a wooden staff with a golden rose figurehead was leaning against one of the hut's support beams, and the blonde guardian knew right away that her roommate was a summoner. That particular roommate was a young woman-she looked to be slightly older than Neirana, although not much so-who was lying on one of the beds, barefoot, poring over what seemed to be an aged piece of papyrus, marked with runes that Neirana felt she should have remembered from her temple studies, but didn't.  
  
As far as Neirana could tell, the other girl was shorter, and she was clothed in a bright emerald dress with various gold and blue patterns, loose and flowing, and looking very elegant. Her brown hair was worn up, in a bun, and she gave no indications whatsoever that she had heard the younger girl enter, so caught up was she in her studies.  
  
Neirana dropped her bag on the floor and rapped her knuckles gently against the doorpost. "Knock-knock." she said in a teasing tone.  
  
The summoner started, bolting upright like a scared cat. Neirana raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "Oh!" began the other girl, flustered. "I. I didn't hear you come in!"  
  
Fighting a snicker, Neirana walked inside the hut. Although small, it was quite comfortable. "That much is obvious. so. I guess we'll be living together for a few months, huh? My name's Neirana Sutir. nice to meet you." She extended her hand to the other girl.  
  
The brunette smiled shyly at her new roommate, taking Neirana's hand and shaking it gently. "Well, I guess so. pleased to make your acquaintance as well." She gestured to the flowerhead staff leaning against the walls. "I'm studying to be a summoner. my name is Belgemine."  
  
"Belgemine, huh?" Neirana walked over to her own bed and sat down on it, opening the sack full of her belongings. "So, got a last name?" she winked at the older girl.  
  
The brown-haired summoner looked down at her slender hands. "Actually, no, I don't. I'm an orphan." her dark eyes were sad, yet the sorrow seemed mute, as though it had been lessened over the years.  
  
In an instant, Neirana's attitude plummeted, and her face fell with it. "Oh. I'm sorry." Because of the constant and unrelenting attacks of Sin, it wasn't uncommon that children would grow up having only one parent, or possibly even orphaned. In the past few decades, however, there had been a growing rise in those who believed that all Yevonites were really the children of Yevon, and as such were a family unto themselves. To reflect this bond, it became the custom for orphans to drop their last name to signify that they had become a member of the greater clan.  
  
Belgemine waved it off. "It's okay. You had no way of knowing, there's really no need to feel bad. I know you didn't mean any offense." She looked at the floor, and then back up at the blonde girl. "It was a long time ago. and besides, I have a home. I live at the temple on Tsani Island."  
  
Tsani was a small island located to the west of Kilika. Unlike that relatively large island, or even the more sparsely populated Besaid, Tsani had only one large town. The temple in the middle of that settlement was actually larger than most, because it had two purposes. Not only was it a summoners' temple, housing one of the powerful fayths, but it served as a home for abandoned and orphaned girls, who ranged in age all the way from pre-adolescence to mid-twenties. There was another haven on Tsani for boys the same age, and also for younger children of either sex, but that was its sole purpose-there was no temple there.  
  
The temple was a sanctuary, a walled compound, blocking the rest of the tiny island out, and for good reason. The rest of the village was infamous as one of the most lawless areas in Spira; it was poor and dilapidated, remote from the laws of the Maesters and the teachings of Yevon. It was no wonder that no men other than summoners were allowed inside the compound- the girls inside, sheltered from the outside world, were naïve and trusting, and the priestesses feared they would be taken advantage of.  
  
As Neirana looked at the brunette sitting on the bed across from her, she found her thoughts wandering to what that life would be like. to never know anything but the world inside the walls, to be raised completely in the teachings of Yevon. Yes, the temple played a huge role in the upbringing of almost every child in Spira. but to be completely immersed in the role day in and day out. Neirana didn't know if she could handle that.  
  
An awkward silence reigned in the room, before Neirana chose to break it. "So. you've always wanted to be a summoner?" she smiled, slowly reaching down to unpack her belongings.  
  
Belgemine laughed, a warm, rich sound. Her voice was slightly deeper than Neirana's, well into the alto range. "Actually. no." the summoner returned the smile. "I wanted to be a gardener. At the home, I always used to work in the garden, making it beautiful, feeling it grow, enjoying the feeling of nurturing it. There's. just something incredibly satisfying about seeing the plants grow under your care. It makes you feel as if you are actually helping something, making something good in the world."  
  
The emerald-eyed girl grinned sheepishly. "I wouldn't know. I've always been a blitzball fan. I guess that's why you're the summoner and I'm a guardian, huh?" Neirana slipped her sandals off, lying back on the bed.  
  
"Blitzball?" asked Belgemine, smiling. "Oh, do you like the Aurochs? They're my personal favorite team. I heard they won the Cup this year! Wasn't that exciting?"  
  
Neirana stifled a groan.  
  
* * *  
  
Kecci kept walking as day turned to night, not particularly caring where he was walking to, as long as he got there. The planks creaked under his feet as he strode along the docks, casting long shadows in the crimson light. A young fisherman, hauling in his daily catch, paused to wave at the dark- skinned Lucan. a bit puzzled, Kecci returned the wave, and walked on. Why were people he didn't know waving at him?  
  
Then, the answer hit him. They weren't waving at Kecci Hayado, the boy from Luca, they were waving at Summoner Kecci, who would deliver them from the fiends and Sinspawn.  
  
A summoner. He was going to be a summoner. No matter how many times he repeated it, the full impact of that statement hadn't hit him as of yet. The reverence that was bestowed upon them, the hearts that were lifted when they were around. the duties and tasks given to them. summoners were the superheroes of Spira. And now, Kecci found himself elevated to that elite rank. It scared him.  
  
As he walked, he found himself on dry land now, walking into the jungle on the path that would eventually lead him to the Kilika temple. It was then that Kecci stopped. The infinite blackness that lay ahead on the path as the trees cut off virtually all available light daunted him, and frightened him not a little. He couldn't see anything that lay ahead of him, in the darkness.  
  
He stood there, caught halfway between the slowly fading light of the small port town and the impenetrable twilight of the jungle that blanketed the temple path. Kecci felt, quite literally, that he was at the point of no return, and froze, unwilling to move.  
  
It was a good thing that Kecci hadn't chosen to go on, because within moments, a piercing buzzing noise came to his ears. The summoner wrinkled his forehead, trying to concentrate, to find the source of the noise as it grew steadily louder.  
  
Kecci's eyes widened in realization, and he threw himself to the forest floor as an enormous wasp, easily as long as his arm, zoomed over his head, stinger first. The dark-skinned boy picked himself up, looking at the fiend and swallowing nervously.  
  
The Killer Bee swooped around the young boy, apparently angry at an intruder in its forest so late at night. It hovered, its long stinger glinting evilly in the waning light, and made another rush. Kecci twisted to the side like an acrobat, avoiding the charge narrowly, as the stinger tore through the fabric of his cloak.  
  
As the bee was still recovering from its swoop, Kecci extended his hand, closing his eyes and mumbling softly to himself. In his mind's eye, he saw the wasp slowly change direction for another run. He felt the fiend's presence, knew it was coming. and then, he gathered the "chi" of the forest to him, tapped into the mystical leylines of Spira. A writhing ball of flame appeared under his palm, growing with every heartbeat, illuminating the dark jungle.  
  
The young summoner's eyes snapped open, and the fireball elongated into a jet of flame, spewing out at the attacking insect, to incinerate the fiend. Kecci's magic spell worked perfectly.  
  
Or, it would have, but the fiend was no longer there. An instant before Kecci unleashed his attack, there was a clap like thunder, and a flash of purple light, unlike any elemental spell that Kecci had ever seen. In that instant, the Killer Bee simply ceased to exist, exploding into pyreflies that gently wafted up into the air.  
  
The young summoner's fireball continued, missing its target, and landed smack-dab in the middle of a young palm tree, igniting the plant in a burst of flame. Kecci swore again, and concentrated once more, this time conjuring up a stream of water to put out the fire that could have, if left alone, done a fair amount of damage to the surrounding forest. Steam billowed up into the air as the fire hissed itself away. Satisfied that his spell wouldn't cause any more damage, Kecci turned around.  
  
The girl from the docks, with the long black hair and the pale green eyes was staring at him, the traces of a smile on her face. The young man looked into her eyes, and flinched, looking away, as a sharp tingle shot up his spine. Who WAS this girl, anyway? Her name was. Nesici, Roth had said. "That was you?" he said at last, referring to the spell that had obliterated the fiend in an instant.  
  
Nesici nodded, not saying a word. The two of them stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, before she broke the quiet. "You are Roth's new friend, are you not?" she asked, her voice soft, slightly deep, and more accented than her guardian. When Kecci nodded an affirmative, still unwilling to meet her eyes, she half-smiled. "Ah. He says you are very nice."  
  
A half-smile found its way onto Kecci's face. "Well. thank you. Roth's very nice also. he helped me out on the beach earlier today." Naturally, his thoughts about Olawa Andresen weren't too positive at the moment.  
  
Apparently, neither were Nesici's. Her pale green eyes narrowed slightly, and Kecci could have sworn the wind seemed to blow harder for a moment. "Ah yes. trust me, it was our pleasure to see that he got what he deserved. Olawa Andresen is no better than his brother."  
  
"Brother?" Kecci raised an eyebrow. "He has a brother?"  
  
The pale-eyed summoner sighed softly. "Yes, he does. Just as much of a," she said something in her own tongue that Kecci couldn't catch. "as he is." Nesici shook her head, her long dark hair softly blowing in the wind. "And unfortunately, Yunno Andresen is training to be a summoner."  
  
Kecci's mental picture of the Andresen clan had been a group of brain-dead athletes who had nothing to do but take advantage of their adoring female fans, so the fact that Olawa Andresen's brother was studying to join the ranks of the summoners threw him. "A summoner?"  
  
"Yes. As am I." The dark-haired girl cast her sea-green gaze on the young man. "As are you."  
  
For a moment, Kecci wondered how she knew that, before remembering she had been on the docks when he had told the crowd. ".is he any good with magic?" he asked, still a bit intimidated by the sheer intensity the other summoner was radiating.  
  
The Nagijin summoner shrugged. "No," she answered matter-of-factly, eliciting a small snicker from Kecci.  
  
"So. I'm going to go back to my hut. do you want to come with me? To see Roth?" Kecci asked her, the strain of the day suddenly catching up with him. He yawned.  
  
Nesici shook her head, and Kecci thought he could see the faint hints of a blush on her face. "No. I've already been with him tonight. And I don't think you would appreciate the noise while you tried to sleep."  
  
Kecci's eyes widened, a bit uncomfortable with the pale-eyed summoner's lack of modesty, and he nodded. "Y-yes. I think that'd be best." He said, blushing horribly. And yet, Nesici didn't seem to notice the change in his tone. She smiled, bid him good-night, and then walked away. 


	16. Arc Two: 'To be a Summoner' Chapter Nin...

Chapter Nine  
  
The smell of freshly caught fish sizzling on the stove came to Kecci as he slept, drifting in the pleasant land halfway between reality and dreams. He recognized some of the spices in the scent, spices that had forever been in the air in his kitchen. it smelled like his mother was making one of his favorite dishes, Kecci thought. It was so nice of her to do that for him.  
  
"Kecci? It's time to get up!" Her voice came up the stairs of their small house, pleasant and rich. "You don't want to be late to get to the temple, do you?"  
  
He groaned, relishing the familiar warmth of his futon. "Coming, mother!" he managed to croak out at last, and pried his eyelids open.  
  
A face that was decidedly unlike that of his mother looked down at him, barely repressing laughter. Roth smirked down at the sleeping summoner-to- be. "Well, it's a good thing you're awake. but I ain't your mom, last I checked." He snickered, pulling the pillow from his bed and throwing it at the young man. "Now come on and get dressed."  
  
The tall Nagijin, who was wearing his loose, comfortable black pants but was shirtless, walked out of the hut, letting the woven mat that functioned as a door fall down behind him to block the doorway.  
  
Kecci blinked to clear his eyes, yawned, and swung his legs out of his bed. For a moment, he held his head in his hands, trying to fight the despairing homesickness that threatened to overtake him. The dream had been full of such powerful memories of his home on Luca. everything was different, now.  
  
'Stop that, Kecci. it's only going to get worse,' he told himself. 'If you can't deal with it now, then you might as well give up and go home.'  
  
For a tantalizing second, the dark-skinned summoner allowed himself to fantasize about giving up, about returning to Luca and living a full, normal life. In the next moment, he had rejected that completely, and was chastising himself for even thinking about surrendering the load he had chosen to bear.  
  
Yet it was still tempting. Kecci shook his head, and stood up, pulling on his tunic and throwing his cloak on over it, clasping it at the throat. Fully clothed, he walked out into the open.  
  
The whiff of fish hadn't been merely in his dream. Roth was standing right outside the tent in front of an iron skillet over an open flame. The red- headed guardian gently flipped two pieces of salmon from side to side, slowly cooking the outside. As Kecci watched, the massive Nagijin reached to a jar of spices standing on a pylon, and sprinkled them over the browning seafood.  
  
Kecci raised an eyebrow at Roth. "You cook?"  
  
The guardian nodded, holding the wooden flipper in his teeth as he reached down to the handle of a bucket of water standing at his feet. "Mmm-hmmph," he mumbled an affirmative, pouring the water over the fire. Steam billowed out over the iron pan as the fire sizzled to nothing. Roth put the bucket down, and dropped the flipper in it. "Been cooking ever since I was young."  
  
As he spoke, Roth grabbed a pair of straw plates that had been lying on the dock beside him. "See, in the Calm Lands, we don't get seafood much, it's considered a huge delicacy. It's a once-a-year treat for kids to get to eat fish. Here, it's everywhere." he laughed. "I wish my dad could see this." Roth flipped one piece of the salmon onto one plate, and put the other on the second. He handed one of the plates to the Lucan summoner, and smiled. "This is one of my favorite dishes. Enjoy."  
  
The younger boy grinned. "I can't cook to save my life. Quite impressive." he grabbed the knife that was resting on the plate and cut a piece of the fish out. He was about to eat it, when Roth stopped him.  
  
"Almost forgot the sauce. doesn't taste nearly as good without it." Roth winked, grabbing a glass bottle full of a viscous red liquid, and squirted a few drops onto Kecci's breakfast. "It's a little spicy, but nothing you can't handle."  
  
Kecci laughed, and popped the fish into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring what had to be one of the richest and most flavorful bites of food he had ever had. and then, his eyes flashed open and he began to gag as his tongue seemed to catch fire. Kecci spat the fish out into the sea, the searing pain causing tears to well up in his eyes.  
  
Roth smiled sheepishly, patting the shorter boy's back. "Guess you're not used to it, huh?" Kecci just shot his friend a silent, teary-eyed, betrayed glare.  
  
* * *  
  
After Roth had given Kecci his own, un-sauced plate to eat for breakfast, and the two men had eaten their fill, the larger one looked down at his newfound friend. "Well, today you start training to be a summoner." he smiled.  
  
"Don't worry about it. if you have any problems, just ask Nesici, I'm sure she'll help you out." As he spoke, Roth pulled his long black coat on, leaving it open as usual. Kecci questioned the wisdom of wearing a long coat in the heat, but it obviously didn't seem to faze the Nagijin one bit. "Well. I'll see you in the evening. Summoner training is up at the temple; we guardians practice down in the forest and on the beach."  
  
Roth ducked inside the small hut they shared for a moment, and came out carrying two things. The first was Kecci's staff, which he threw to the shorter boy, who caught it in one hand. It was the second that caught Kecci's eye. Roth was strapping a four-bladed steel claw to his wrist, tightening the straps to fit it snug with his hand. The red-headed guardian flexed his wrist muscles, testing to make sure it was a comfortable fit.  
  
The dark-eyed summoner looked from the claw back up to the taller man's face. "That's an interesting weapon."  
  
Grinning, the muscular Nagijin stretched his arms high above his head. "You bet. my clan's used these for centuries," he shook his head. "Don't know why they never caught on." Roth laughed. "Anyway, you should head up to the temple. I'll have dinner cooked by the time you get back, probably."  
  
Kecci smiled. "Sure thing," he said, turning to leave. He had walked several steps before he turned around. "Oh, and. can we leave the spices off this time?" There was a smirk on his face, but Roth could clearly sense the earnestness beneath the inquiry. He nodded and laughed.  
  
* * *  
  
The instructor, a short, powerfully-built former Crusader whose head was shaven bald, crossed his arms and snorted derisively. "You're the newest guardian here, aren't you?"  
  
Neirana looked him up and down slowly, and laid Quicksilver in the sand at her feet. She had just opened her mouth to respond when the instructor interrupted her. "When I ask you a question, you answer me right away! Do you think a fiend will give you the chance to assess the situation before it tears your throat out?" As fierce and belligerent as the Crusader was being, Neirana didn't think the comparison was particularly inaccurate. "So, I'll ask you again. You're the newest guardian here, aren't you?"  
  
A bit blustered, and not a little bit unnerved by the former Crusader's tirade, Neirana nodded, stammering out, "Y-yes, I am, sir. My name's Neirana Sutir."  
  
In the next instant, the instructor's expression had gone from furious to stern, yet with an aura of kindness that hadn't been there before. "Well then, welcome, Miss Neirana. My name is Instructor Lenat. I will be teaching you," he gestured to the group of young men and women standing behind him. "And your fellows all the skills you will need to be a guardian."  
  
The blonde guardian shot a quick glance at the others who would be training alongside of her. The most recognizable was the massive Roth, whose coat and hair were blowing softly in the morning breeze. He nodded at her, throwing a quick smile, clearly wanting to make up after the fiasco with Olawa Andresen the day before. She returned the smile, slightly weaker, as she looked over the other guardians.  
  
There were three young women standing side by side next to Roth, and they looked enough alike that Neirana immediately assumed they were sisters. The oldest one was short and rotund, with a pleasant face and light brown eyes. She was dressed in the brown robes of the Tsani temple, as were her sisters, and Neirana quickly made the connection. These three were Belgemine's guardians.  
  
If the oldest sister had a weapon, Neirana couldn't see it. The second oldest, however, was clearly armed. She was tall-taller than Neirana-and rather wiry, with a very angular body and face. Two long, slender blades were mounted on each of her wrists. They were bent back, along the line of her arm, but the blonde girl had no doubt that there was a spring mechanism to snap them into battle position during a fight.  
  
The third sister was by far the youngest, looking scarcely older than ten or eleven. She was blonde, and very petite. She kept bouncing from one foot to the next, obviously very energetic. A soft smile came to Neirana's face. The third sister reminded her of herself at that age.  
  
There was one other person standing on the beach. The final guardian looked to be around Neirana's age, if a bit younger. He was well-tanned, with hair cropped short, and clothes worn loose and airy, as was the style among the locals. He seemed friendly enough, but as Neirana watched, he kept on shooting sideways glances at Roth, clearly at unease with the Nagijin guardian. The Lucan shrugged it off. It wasn't any of her business.  
  
Neirana shot a smile at Lenat, relieved he was friendlier than he had seemed. He smiled back, although he seemed to be lost in thought at the moment.  
  
The blonde girl walked over to the guardians and introduced herself. She found out that the trio of sisters were indeed Belgemine's guardians. The oldest was named Cindy, the middle sister was called Sandy, and the youngest was Mindy. When Neirana raised an eyebrow at the similarity of their names, Cindy chuckled. "It's a long, LONG story. ask Belgemine about it, sometime."  
  
The final guardian was a native of Kilika, in fact, he was a resident of this very town. He introduced himself as Sirid, smiling at her. Neirana grinned back. "Well, nice to meet you, Sirid. who's your summoner?"  
  
"Yunno Andresen."  
  
Neirana blinked, but before she could ascertain Yunno's relation to her idol, she was interrupted by Lenat. "Sutir. are you related to Masa Sutir?" the stocky ex-Crusader asked her.  
  
She turned around, softly smiling at her instructor. It seemed like forever since she had heard her father's name. it had only been slightly over a week, but it felt like an eternity. "Yes, he's my father. why?"  
  
Instructor Lenat grinned at her, reaching down to unclip his weapon from his belt-a long broadsword, glittering in the morning light. He held it up so she could see the familiar emblem carved into the base of the handle, the mark of her father's workshop. "I got this sword six years ago when I retired from the Crusaders," Lenat winked at her. "Best damn sword I've ever used. the balance is perfect. Your father is a genius."  
  
The green-eyed guardian returned the smile. "Well. I don't know about a genius," she laughed. "But he does know how to make an excellent sword." Neirana reached down to the ground and picked up Quicksilver, showing Lenat the insignia on the hilt. "It's saved my life."  
  
"Saved mine, too." Lenat nodded, wiping sweat from his bald head. He then turned to face the other five on the beach, and grinned. "So. it's time to start training. First, we duel."  
  
"Draw your weapons," Lenat commanded the guardians-to-be. They all complied, not wishing to incur the fiery wrath their instructor could summon at a moment's notice.  
  
Neirana noticed the oldest of the three sisters pull out a large rectangular shield, adorned with a golden Yevon symbol on the front. She briefly wondered how that was in any way a weapon, but then looked at the other two sisters. The youngest had pulled out an oaken crossbow, and had fitted an arrow and locked the bolt in position. The guardian from Luca nodded to herself. Of course, the three sisters would fight as a team. Mindy, the youngest, would fight from long distance, Sandy would close in on the target with her twin blades, and Cindy would provide protection with her large shield. Impressed, Neirana softly smiled as she tightened her grip on Quicksilver.  
  
Meanwhile, Roth had tossed his coat off to the side, where it lay in a black heap. He stretched his muscles, swinging the vicious-looking claw he wore around his wrist in attack patterns. The Nagijin guardian obviously knew what he was doing.  
  
In comparison to the skilled Roth, Sirid looked uncomfortable holding the two sai he had chosen as his weapons. Sai were blades native to the islands of Kilika and Besaid, one-handed weapons with three prongs, shaped like miniature tridents. They were excellent counterattack tools, being able to disarm an opponent with a flick of the wrist. However, Sirid did not seem as if he had much experience with them.  
  
Lenat grinned, and commanded them to fall into a line. They did as ordered, and he walked up and down their ranks, looking at each one of them, scrutinizing them, seeming to take in every little detail. "Very good," he said at last. "We will start off with sparring today. We will start off with sparring every day. Some days, we will only spar. As we do so, you will grow stronger. You will become faster. You will become a better fighter, but," he paused here. "Only if you learn how to use the 'chi' deep within you. If you fail to understand your 'chi,' you will die."  
  
* * *  
  
"What is 'chi,' you ask?" Father Hukaso looked Kecci in the eyes, the aromas and mists of the temple making the young summoner's vision hazy. "The force called 'chi' is what gives a summoner his power. It gives the healers the power to save, gives mages the power to destroy. 'Chi' is the life welling up within you."  
  
Hukaso reached out, touching a point in the middle of Kecci's forehead, drawing the finger down to his neck, and along his shoulderblades. "To make it simple, 'chi' is your life-force, is your energy. But it is not only in us humans. Everything has a 'chi,' everything fits into the web of life. All people, be they male or female, Yevonite or Al Bhed, have what we call leylines," Hukaso continued tracing lines on Kecci's body with his fingertip. "These lines are where the 'chi' travels in the body. These are the centers of energy for you, where your power comes from. We have these leylines. Animals have these leylines. All of Spira has leylines. currents of 'chi.'"  
  
"To understand how magic works, you must understand this 'chi.' The most obvious physical representations of 'chi' are the pyreflies. When someone dies, their spirit energy passes from them in the shape of pyreflies. their essence, if sent, travels to the Farplane, where it is recycled into Spira, into the elements. The pyreflies tap into the leylines of Spira, tap into the basic elements of fire, of water, wind, and earth. By controlling these pyreflies, by controlling your 'chi,' you can call upon the primal elements themselves to obey you."  
  
Chuckling, Father Hukaso turned away. "However, you already know that. While virtually everyone can manipulate their 'chi' in some way, very few can manipulate the leylines around them. Those few are the summoners, the mages. Black magic, the elemental destructive magic, requires power, of course. Most people with talent for magic can do the low-level elemental spells, but it takes phenomenal power to master the spells without elements. In order to cast a non-elemental spell, one must open themselves completely to raw power. but that does not necessarily mean they have control."  
  
"White mages, on the other hand, rely completely on control instead of power. The healing abilities they have come from the ability to align their personal 'chi' with that of someone else, to greatly improve that person's healing faculties. From the moment I saw you, Brother Kecci," Hukaso continued. "I knew you were a healer. You have an aura about you, some of the most extraordinary control I've ever seen in an apprentice."  
  
He turned back to Kecci, a smile on his face. "All summoners and mages perceive 'chi' differently. For example, it manifests itself for me in a constant hum. Different tones mean different things, different auras. Most mages, when starting out, need to focus to reach the state where they can clearly sense 'chi.' However, in this state, the physical world seems mute and hazy. There's a reason why not many summoners become excellent guardians as well." Hukaso laughed. "I have reached the point, however, where my perception of 'chi' is overlaid on my normal senses of the world, not hampering my physical ability in the slightest. However, it's taken me years to reach this stage; I don't expect you to make it in a few months."  
  
"The relationship between aeons and the 'chi' of the summoner is important, of course, but we're not ready for that yet. we must build on your prior skills, Brother Kecci. you may be able to tap into the leylines of Spira right now, but you must try harder, or you will fail as a summoner."  
  
* * *  
  
The balding instructor nodded at Sirid. "Sirid, tell me honestly. Do I look like the sort of man who could move quickly?"  
  
Looking the squat, beefy instructor up and down, the Kilika native took his time in replying, but eventually shook his head. "No sir, you look too muscular to move very fast."  
  
Lenat laughed. "You're absolutely right, Sirid. Under normal circumstances, I'm all power, no speed," he shot a look at Roth, obviously recognizing that the Nagijin was in a similar situation. "But by harnessing my 'chi,' I can control that."  
  
Stopping right in front of the diminutive Mindy, Lenat drew his sword, and stepped back several paces. "Mindy, please shoot me with that crossbow of yours."  
  
"A-are you sure?" The blonde girl squeaked, looking around a bit nervously. She had obviously never been commanded to shoot an authority figure before- there were few who had, of course.  
  
Laughing again, Lenat drew his sword, and began to take a series of deep, calming breaths. As Neirana watched, his breathing slowed, and he stood still, completely motionless aside from the gentle rise and fall of his chest. At last, Lenat nodded to the young guardian. "Go ahead, shoot me."  
  
The click of the wooden trigger and the flash of steel were almost simultaneous. If she had blinked, Neirana would have missed it. As it was, it happened far too fast for it to register on her mind, and she simply stared in shock, as did her other apprentice guardians-except for Roth, who simply nodded in impressed silence.  
  
Lenat held his broadsword off to the side, having finished a massive slice. Mindy's arrow fell to the sand, cleaved neatly in two down the middle. His demonstration concluded, Lenat stood straight up, sheathing his sword once more.  
  
"You see. the human body is capable of amazing feats. They all depend on being able to harness your 'chi,' make it work for you. Learn to use it as you fight. Push each other to your limit, and beyond. That is the only way you will become a true guardian."  
  
The ex-crusader wiped sweat from his brow, and nodded to Neirana and Roth. "You two. let's see how well you fight."  
  
Looking at the red-headed Nagijin, Neirana's hand found the familiar hilt of Quicksilver and gripped it tightly. She nodded to her instructor, walking out of the line of guardians, as did Roth. The two guardians turned to face each other, and bowed, hands cupped in the customary prayer gesture. Without a word, Neirana shifted her weight onto her back leg, holding Quicksilver in a defensive stance. Roth, opposite her, preferred a middle stance, his weight evenly distributed. The steel blades of his claw glinted a warning to her as he held his hands up in front of his face.  
  
"Prepare yourselves." Lenat said to the two guardians. To the rest of them, he added. "Observe these two. Watch how they fight. See their mistakes, and learn to not make them. And remember to focus on your 'chi'. learn to use it." That said, he returned his gaze to the pair of opponents in front of him, one lithe and nimble, the other gargantuan and titanically strong. "Remember, this is a spar. There are healers in the village, but if you badly wound an opponent, I will be quite displeased with you." There was a threat in his voice that everyone perceived, yet no one mentioned. No one needed to.  
  
"And fight!"  
  
Roth sprang forward, twisting his body around to strike a massive overhead blow down at the blonde guardian. His claw sliced air, however, as Neirana spun to the side, driving her heel into his stomach. It felt like kicking a brick wall, and the smaller guardian fell forward, somersaulting to her feet just in time to sidestep another assault.  
  
This time, Neirana pursued the attack. She feinted low, to Roth's unprotected left, and then quickly struck at his blind side. The Nagijin had barely blocked the strike when Neirana disengaged her sword, and spun in a twirling overhead strike. This time, Roth easily blocked Quicksilver. However, the smaller combatant used the torque from her spin to bring her foot up and around, spin-kicking Roth in the side.  
  
With the force of her spin behind it, the kick actually did some damage, and Roth staggered a bit, holding his side protectively. Neirana jumped forward in another high slash. Metal met metal as Roth blocked with a speed that no one watching would have thought possible. Quicksilver bounced off his claw as they hit, leaving Neirana wide open. Roth took the opportunity, elbowing her in the stomach, and then backhanding her as she doubled over.  
  
Neirana fell to the ground, gasping for breath. In the corner of her eye, she saw Roth bringing his foot back to kick her. Before he could connect, she leapt off the ground, rolling to the side, and attacking, trying to ignore the piercing pains in her stomach and side.  
  
She pressed her attack, using her smaller size to great advantage, nimbly avoiding most of the massive Nagijin's strikes, dancing just out of reach before lunging in with a quick strike. Small cuts appeared all along Roth's muscular arms as the Lucan continued to evade his strikes and counterattack. They were superficial wounds, true, but they still hurt.  
  
The next time Neirana leapt in, however, Roth was ready. Instead of trying to block her strike as he had been doing without success, he leapt forward to meet her. Physics took over after that, and the blonde girl went flying back, Quicksilver spinning away from her to land in the sand.  
  
Fighting the ringing in her ears, Neirana pushed herself to her feet. Quicksilver was right by Roth. and by the look in the red-haired guardian's eyes, he wasn't going to let her get it. Pulling her ponytail over her shoulder, Neirana met his gaze, and smirked. With that, she ran towards him as fast as she could.  
  
A few feet before she reached him, Neirana let herself fall into a feet- first slide. Roth grinned, bringing his unarmed left fist down to knock her unconscious and win the match, but his massive hand struck empty sand.  
  
The Lucan guardian had planted a hand down in the sand, and had pivoted on it to avoid Roth's attack. In the same spin, she reached down to grab Quicksilver, and brought her feet back hard to sweep her opponent's legs out from under him.  
  
Roth wasn't going down so easy, however. As he fell, he twisted his body to give one final strike. His claw slashed around at Neirana's unprotected stomach, cutting through clothing and flesh. Then he landed, kicking up an enormous cloud of sand, obscuring all details of what was going on.  
  
When the sand cleared, Neirana had her sword to his throat, protecting her bleeding stomach with her free hand. She was trembling in pain, but knew the victory was hers. Her emerald eyes met Roth's sapphire ones, and he nodded, congratulating her on a battle well fought.  
  
Then, she promptly passed out on the sand.  
  
* * *  
  
Kecci followed Father Hukaso out of the torch-lit, hazy main hall of the temple, and into the sunlight. He squinted as the sun cut into his eyes, dazzled for a few moments before his vision adjusted. When he could see again, Kecci saw that the portly priest was leading him to a stone circle inlaid on the ground. There were two figures sitting cross-legged, in meditation, both female. One was pale with long, raven hair. The other summoner, whom he didn't know, looked older than Nesici, and had chestnut hair put up in a bun.  
  
As Hukaso approached, he smiled at them. "Good morning, Sister Nesici, Sister Belgemine. I trust you are well?" The girls opened their eyes and stood up, then bowed to Hukaso, who returned the gesture. "This is Brother Kecci, from Luca. He has just arrived."  
  
A hint of a smile on her face, Nesici cast her pale gaze on Kecci. "We've met, Father," she said simply. The now-familiar chill ran down the Lucan's spine as their eyes met.  
  
The second summoner, the girl named Belgemine, bowed to Kecci, and he reciprocated. Once she had straightened up, she smiled. "So you're Kecci. I'm sharing a hut with your guardian, Neirana. She's told me quite a lot about you."  
  
Fighting a blush, Kecci looked at her. "What. what sort of things has she told you?"  
  
"Nothing bad, don't worry," Belgemine laughed, reaching down to the ground and picking up her wooden staff, bearing a golden rose at the tip. "Father," she said, changing the subject. "Is Brother Yunno going to be meditating with us today?"  
  
Hukaso stopped, then turned around, looking at the mountaintop, at all the worshippers and priests, but didn't see Andresen's younger brother. "He should be here," the summoner said at last. "However, we will not be meditating today. today, we will be seeing a more practical use of magic, and practicing it. Follow me."  
  
With that, he turned and began walking around the temple, to a narrow path leading down the mountain. The three junior summoners followed, unsure of what to expect.  
  
They hiked down the dirt trail, occasionally using their respective staves as supports, entering the thick jungle of Kilika. They had been hiking for almost half an hour, when Hukaso held up a hand, bringing their small band to a halt.  
  
In front of them, the underbrush whispered as two fiends, lizard-like creatures, dove through the bushes and onto the path, engaged in some sort of combat. One, the larger, seemed to take the upper hand, pinning its opponent down. However, sensing the four summoners, it sprang off, flicking its tongue out, warily slinking back. Its former adversary joined it, their fight forgotten.  
  
"Well," said Hukaso, his hands clasping his staff tightly. "This wasn't the particular test I had envisioned, but it'll do." He stepped back, leaving the three young adults to take the front line. "Defend yourselves." With that, he watched, sensing their respective auras.  
  
That of the young man, Kecci. his 'chi' was very focused, a tight, high- pitched vibrato. he had extraordinary control, command of his 'chi.' His power wasn't as high as that of the other two, but it was by no means weak. The girl from Tsani, Sister Belgemine, gave off a note that was soft and placid, yet steady. Although she didn't exude confidence, Belgemine probably had the most experience of the three, and had untapped wells of power and potential.  
  
The third summoner, the Nagijin. when Hukaso had heard that he was to be training a Nagijin summoner, part of him had been disbelieving. Although he had been disabused of his notion that the residents of the Calm Lands were all heathens like the Al Bhed, he still had trouble seeing one of them as a summoner. Yet when he had met Nesici, his pre-conceived notions had been turned upside down.  
  
When he sensed her 'chi,' he was reminded of nothing so much than a full symphony, playing at their loudest volume. Her 'chi' would fluctuate wildly, going up and down the scales, full of dissonant half-harmonies. It was clear to him, at least, that she did not have the control that the others did. But her power. Yevon, her power. hers was the loudest, most powerful 'chi' he had ever sensed. Even when he had met Maester Shiino, whose 'chi' had nearly bowled him over, he hadn't sensed anything like this. Nesici's true weakness, however, was in her lack of control. Yet her power made up for it. he had seen her obliterate an attacking fiend, just like that. afterwards, her sheer presence had made the pyreflies wisping out of the monster's body twist and shudder, dancing from the huge pressures of Nesici's 'chi.'  
  
Hukaso sighed inwardly as his thoughts came to Yunno Andresen. he didn't know why the Kilika native had chosen to train to become a summoner. Yes, he had some power, yes, he could manipulate the pyreflies, but not nearly enough to control the aeons. Yunno was brash and egotistical, at times nearly blasphemous. He frequently taunted Nesici, and Hukaso continued to expect him to end up dead at her hands. However, the Nagijin summoner managed to rein in her emotions, and did not react.  
  
The fiends slunk back and forth across the pathway, eyeing the trio of apprentice summoners warily. Belgemine whispered to her two comrades, "They're lizards. they're weak against lightning, as I recall. You know lightning spells, right?"  
  
Kecci nodded, closing his eyes and focusing in on his 'chi,' but Nesici looked a bit bashful. ".no, I don't," she said at last. "I don't have the control to do elemental magic, really."  
  
The summoner from Tsani shot a glance at Nesici, brown eyes wide. "Really?"  
  
"Trust me, Belgemine, she doesn't need it." said Kecci, taking deep breaths, tapping into his inner potential. Then, the fiends leapt, slashing at the young apprentices.  
  
The dark-skinned Lucan's eyes flashed open, and he stuck his hands out in front of him. A gust of wind picked both of the lizards up, hurling them back. The bewildered fiends smacked into a tree, falling to the ground dizzily. Behind them, Father Hukaso nodded approvingly.  
  
Belgemine grasped her rose-head staff, seizing the opportunity, and stuck it straight out in front of her. There was a crack of thunder, and a bolt of blue lightning leapt from the golden flower, sizzling through the air and striking the larger of the two fiends in the head. The lizard promptly collapsed, dead.  
  
Its partner shook its head, then leapt once again, teeth and claws bared. Kecci looked over at Nesici, but the raven-haired summoner didn't unleash a massive spell like he had expected her too. Instead, she spun, swinging the end of her staff into the fiend's belly. The lizard fell to the ground, injured.  
  
Finishing the job, Belgemine stepped forward, shooting another blast of electricity from the end of her staff, frying the lizard where it lay. Pyreflies whispered into the air, dancing as they neared Nesici, and then vanished. Belgemine beamed at her two fellow summoners. "I think we did a fairly good job, don't you?"  
  
Hukaso nodded, stepping forward. "Very good, all three of you. And remember, as demonstrated by Nesici. one must not be afraid to fight physically if one needs to. Use all the resources at your disposal."  
  
The portly priest smiled. "Again, very good. now, we shall meditate upon what we have learned, focus on our 'chi'. let us return to the temple."  
  
* * *  
  
Neirana awoke under the shade of a grove of trees, groggily. She looked down, touching the shards of her shirt's midriff, finding new, healed skin there. The sun was low in the sky. she estimated she had been unconscious about ten or so hours. However, the wound had been healed by a priest, and she was okay.  
  
The blonde Lucan sat up, stretching stiff muscles, and saw Lenat walking toward her. "How are you feeling?" he asked her, as he saw she was awake. "You were out for a while."  
  
"I'm a bit stiff," she responded, her muscles protesting, unused to movement after lying still for so long. "I think I'll live, though." With Lenat's assistance, she climbed to her feat, albeit somewhat unsteadily.  
  
Lenat chuckled. "Yes, you'll be fine. you fight well, by the way. I was impressed by the way you used your superior agility to fight a foe that was obviously much stronger. I was even more impressed by the way you did so, using purely natural ability. you didn't use your 'chi' at all. That's both good and bad, you realize. It's good in that you're very skilled naturally. it's bad in that you haven't begun to tap into your full potential. You need to work on that, or else you'll end up like this again," his face darkened. "Or worse. What Roth gave you was a minor wound, as far as things go. It could have been far worse, and it will be, if you don't learn to use your 'chi' properly."  
  
The stocky instructor reached to his belt, unclipped Quicksilver, and handed it to the blonde guardian, who was feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yes, sir. thank you, sir. I'll try harder next time."  
  
"Yes, you will." Nothing more needed to be said. Lenat's message had gotten across quite clearly. "Tomorrow, we'll meet up in the forest. I expect to see you there bright and early, to go over what you missed while unconscious." With that, he walked off, leaving the emerald-eyed girl standing by herself.  
  
She sighed, feeling that while she had won the fight, somehow she had lost in the grander scheme of things. Feeling not a little bit alone, Neirana began the walk back to the hut she shared with Belgemine. Maybe her new roommate would know some new techniques about 'chi' usage.  
  
Neirana walked along the beach, the sand spilling in and out of her sandals with each step, when a familiar voice came from behind her. "Hey, 'Rana- babe!" the guardian turned and flushed red, as Olawa Andresen walked up to her, his body dripping with sea water, a blitzball in his hands. He dropped the studded ball on the ground, and walked over to her.  
  
The blitzer looked at her shredded shirt, and Neirana immediately covered herself, quite self-conscious. The rip was too low for him to actually see anything, but she was still embarrassed. "You feeling better? Last I saw, you were laid out pretty bad."  
  
The blush on her cheeks grew darker. "You. you saw me injured?" Not only was Lenat disappointed in her, but Olawa, and Yevon knew how many other people had seen her in that condition. At the moment, the young guardian just wanted to run and hide from the embarrassment.  
  
"Yeah, you looked pretty bad. but hey, you're fine now, so that's good." Olawa frowned. "Damn Nagijin. why don't they just learn their place?" In the space of an instant, his face lightened, and he smiled at her. "So. you're gonna be here a while, huh?"  
  
Neirana nodded, still chagrined. "Y-yes. a few months at the least. I don't really know."  
  
The grin on Andresen's face widened. "Well, that's good." Without another word, he pulled her into an embrace, eliciting a squeak from the younger girl.  
  
* * *  
  
Above the village, Kecci walked out of the jungle, smiling at Nesici, who had been relating an amusing anecdote about Roth's childhood. "And his uncle hasn't been able to look at a Chocobo the same way since!"  
  
Kecci laughed, the sound pleasant to his ears after the stress of that day's training. right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. He wondered how Neirana had fared that day.  
  
As if summoning her with his thoughts, a flash of silver caught his eye, and Kecci saw his guardian, walking down on the beach by herself. His first impulse was to go join her, but then his heart sunk as Olawa Andresen came into the picture. As he watched, the blitzball jock walked over to her, they talked, and then he embraced the blonde guardian in a tight hug.  
  
Trailing off, Nesici followed his gaze and spied the two figures on the sand. "Don't worry, Kecci, he's just a simple vilken," she said, spouting a vulgar term from her native language.  
  
However, the dark-eyed summoner didn't hear her. He didn't feel much of anything, really, except his heart continuing the downward plummet to shatter against the ground below.  
  
Olawa Andresen leaned down to Neirana, and kissed her. 


End file.
